


You're not good for me

by varevare (varebanos)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, At least until Damian grows up, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2612960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varebanos/pseuds/varevare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian is a vampire hunter. Well, maybe not quite yet, but he will be soon. After all, his father is the best, and there's no place like Gotham for it.</p>
<p>Damian would also do anything to get a certain vampire to look at him, but that's normal, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. But baby I love you

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I didn't post this until now! I started it ages ago, and recently I got inspired to finish this series so I'm writing nothing but this. Idk if I'll be able to finish it soon but I'll definitely make regular updates. Enjoy!

Damian was cold. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary: the weather had been nothing but cold and wet ever since he moved to Gotham. The city rarely, if ever got any sunlight. It was the perfect hunting ground for vampires, and Damian could hardly feel surprised that such was the place his father had chosen as his home. That didn’t stop Damian from considering it ugly, and stupid, and voicing his opinion loudly as often as he could. He had pretty much hated it ever since the first time he stepped there.

 

  
That night, though, the cold wasn’t in his mind. There were better things to occupy his thoughts. His father had banned him from hunting alone, and even the times he had allowed Damian to accompany him he had been forced to stay in the sidelines, not even being able to look at a vampire to the face.  
  
Outrageous, in Damian’s opinion.  
  
He had been trained well, he could protect himself easily, and he wouldn’t end like that stupid Todd -who had managed to get himself killed in an entirely different place, anyways. He was also a better fighter than both Todd and Grayson had been at his age, or at any age, if you asked him. He was ready.  
  
So of course, as soon as he had been able to, he had stolen some basic supplies from the Manor’s stash and gone off to hunt by himself. After all, if his father had really been trying to stop him he would have put more effort into making sure Damian didn’t have access to them, right? And Damian was no idiot. He wasn’t going to put himself in danger. He was aware of his own capabilities and disadvantages. He would only look for some weakened vampire dragging himself through the alleys for blood, and get rid of it. There were many, even in Gotham, and while it wasn’t a dignified fight, it would be enough for his Father to start trusting him.  
  
Or so Damian hoped.  
  
Still deep in thought, Damian took a corner and found himself almost face to face with a dark figure. Immediately he stepped back and pressed himself against the alley’s wall, not even daring to breathe. The figure wasn’t making any noise or moving, but Damian couldn’t forgive himself for ending up so close to the creature without noticing. Maybe his father had been right. Maybe he wasn’t ready.  
  
He waited a full minute hearing nothing but his heart thumping in his ears, and when nothing sprang from the corner ready to eat him he let out the breath he had been holding. He watched the steam this caused rise in front of him, and after ten more seconds without no movement Damian finally dared to peek. The figure was still there, leaning against a brick wall and practically immobile at first sight, but Damian wasn’t fooled. It was alive. Tall, thin, black hair cascading down hiding its facial features, it might as well be a corpse with its chest immobile with the lack of breath. However, there was a slight tremble noticeable on its hands, and Damian noticed the skin was grey under the moonlight.  
  
It was easy for Damian, after so many years of training, to recognize the signs: a weakened, starving vampire. Not strong enough to hunt and not weak enough to die. Damian could do the second option for him.  
  
Slowly, he retrieved a stake from his backpack, careful not to make any noise. He tried to remember everything he knew about vampires -which was basically lots of theory, not even close to enough practical knowledge for what Damian wanted, but it would be enough. A vampire shivering with cold, damn it, it couldn’t be any easier.   
  
With a swift movement, Damian stepped in front of the vampire and pushed it against the wall, trying to calculate the exact spot where the heart was to make sure he’d get it on the first try. The vampire didn’t even struggle, obviously as unaware of Damian’s presence there as Damian had been of the creature’s.  
  
And Damian knew the rules, he really did. His Father insisted so much on not making eye contact with vampires. But it was going to be his first kill, and even more than killing, Damian wanted to know if all the stories were true. If the vampires he had been preparing to fight all his life were really as terrible as they all said. He needed to discover if they lived up to their expectations. So he looked up.  
  
The creature wasn’t like anything he had ever imagined.  
  
It was a vampire, for sure -no way to miss the gray skin and the sharp white fangs- but it didn’t look like a monster. In fact, it -he, it was a man- was beautiful. More beautiful that anybody Damian had ever met before, and his eyes-  
  
How could anybody say that vampires had yellow, ugly eyes? These were clearly blue, the kind of blue that only appears in dreams and hallucinations, and the gray skin and silky black hair that framed them only made them more striking and unearthly.  
  
Instantly, all of Damian’s resolve melted away. He had been ready to kill a monster and bring its head home, but he knew he would never be able to destroy something as perfect. Slowly, he stepped away, and the man’s blue eyes quickly darted between Damian’s face and his stake with an astonished expression.  
  
Damian knew he would have to sneak out another night to find a proper vampire. He had  just thrown weeks worth of preparation to the garbage, but no matter how pissed off at himself he was, he couldn’t even consider hurting the one in front of him. What right did he have to be so beautiful? Angered, Damian kicked him in the shin. When the vampire collapsed to the floor -weak, so weak and still he couldn’t kill him- he hit him a couple more of times in the ribs, for good measure, and started walking away, stealth and subtlety completely forgotten. Putting the supplies back in shouldn’t be hard, but Damian had hoped to be allowed to skip it in exchange for a severed head. It wasn’t his lucky day.  
  
And to finish ruining his mood, the vampire’s face didn’t leave his mind in all the way back home.


	2. Eyes burning through

The Manor had been as silent as usual when Damian had arrived that night, with no prey or anything to show for his escapade. For once, he was glad that nobody paid him much attention in that house. No one noticed him leaving, no one noticed him coming back, and no one noticed him preparing a new trip.  
  
In fact, he was convinced he had managed to avoid any possible consequences until a week later.  
"Master Damian, Master Bruce wants you downstairs," Alfred called from behind the bedroom door.  
  
Damian immediately dropped the book he had been reading on the floor and rushed outside immediately. It was night, about the time when his father usually went out hunting.  
  
"Is he getting ready to go out, Pennyworth?" he asked as soon as he was in front of the elderly man. "Has he finally realized I should go with him?"  
  
"I am not allowed to give any details, Master Damian."  
  
The lack of a direct answer only made Damian even more certain. It was the first time The butler had refused to give s direct answer. He seemed to be in a bad mood, too, so Damian guessed Bruce and he had a disagreement. He only looked like that whenever Bruce did something he considered especially dangerous, and Damian knew he particularly disapproved of allowing anybody but Bruce to hunt.  
  
They walked in silence together through the dark corridors, Damian being barely able to contain his excitement, Alfred a sober presence next to him, when Damian noticed something.  
  
"This isn’t the way to the armory."  
  
"Because we aren’t going to the armory, Master Damian," Alfred replied, looking even more disapproving if possible.  
  
Damian had to wonder what had Bruce done, if the old butler would have prefered to take Damian to the armory before it.  
  
They stopped in front of the library’s door, and this time Alfred knocked and waited for an answer before opening it.  
  
"Who’s there?" Damian whispered, but before Alfred could reply Bruce’s voice came through telling Damian to come inside.  
  
The library was immense, even for the Manor’s standards, and was unusually well lit thanks to the five meters tall windows running all along the wall. At least, on most days. However, as Alfred closed the door behind him, Damian realized that someone had drawn shut most of the thick red curtains, leaving the whole room full of strange shadows. The same shadows that wouldn’t allow him to see his father’s visitor, who was sitting across from his father.  
  
"Did you call me, Father?"  
  
"Come here, Damian. I want to introduce you to Mr. Timothy Drake, the-"  
  
Blue eyes met his, and Damian immediately stopped listening to whatever his father was saying. He even forgot to breathe. The eyes belonged to his vampire, of course they did, he was never going to forget that face. Swallowing, Damian willed himself to stay calm.  
  
The fight was lost the moment the vampire’s lips curved in a small, private smile that made Damian’s cheeks burn. He was a demonic creature, he had absolutely no right to be so beautiful.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Damian," the vampire said, and Damian realized that he had never heard his voice before.  
  
The silence stretched for some moments, which Damian used to examine the other man. Timothy Drake looked even better than he had the first time they saw each other. The imposing, luxurious room suited him better than the dirty alley had, and the smile more than the shocked expression from the previous day. Smile that wouldn’t let Damian think, even for an instant, that Tim didn’t remember him.  
  
"Damian, have you forgotten your manners?"  
  
It was his father’s deep, displeased voice what brought Damian out of his stupor.  
  
"He’s a vampire, Father!" Damian pointed at the other man -more like a teenager, now that he had been looking more calmly- and looked back and forth between him and Bruce. He could never harm Timothy by himself, but he wouldn’t allow him to hurt his family, either. "What is he doing in the house?"  
  
Timothy’s infuriating smile grew wider.  
  
"Weren’t you listening?" Bruce was clearly angry at him now -Damian would know, he had heard that tone hundreds of times. "I was explaining that the Drakes are one of the families we have agreements with. I have already told you about them."  
  
"Don’t worry, Mr Wayne. I’m sure he just just got overexcited." So infuriating, so perfect. "Nice to meet you, Damian."  
  
The ‘isn’t he adorable?’ wasn’t said out loud but Damian could hear it all the same.  
  
He hated him.  
  
"I’m sorry, father," Damian grumbled, not wanting to give his father any more reason to lecture him in front of the creature.  
  
"You better be," Bruce replied curtly.  
  
Damian felt ridiculously small under both his father’s angry look and Drake’s amused one. He guessed he should be happy the vampire hadn’t told on him on the spot.  
  
Now that he wasn’t half passed out from hunger, he could almost pass for a human, even going so far as to fake a breath. His chest would rise and fall more or less smoothly under the expensive looking suit that made Damian feel underdressed, and-  
  
Damian was probably noticing too many details.  
  
"Oh, but there’s really no need," Tim said with his voice full of mirth. "It’s alright. He’s going to grow up to be a big scary vampire hunter, it’s normal if he gets a bit intense at times."  
  
"Maybe," Bruce replied, not sounding convinced in the slightest. Damian knew his opinion of Damian’s skills and preparation had just sunk lower than ever, and he grit his teeth to stop himself from saying something he might regret. "You can leave now, Damian."  
  
Turning around without a word, Damian walked out of the room, closing the door after him.   
  
"How did it go, Master Damian?"  
  
Alfred had been waiting outside. The lack of any kind of refreshments or anything of the sort made obvious that he had been waiting for Damian, and seeing his worried expression only made the kid feel worse.  
  
"A complete and utter waste of time, Pennyworth" Damian replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "If anybody needs me I will be in my room."  
  
Alfred made no attempt to follow him, and Damian was soon alone again. He wasn’t able to concentrate on his book anymore -who cared whether or not he was able to memorize all the kinds of vampire bite? His father wasn’t going to trust him anytime soon- and he ended up reading something completely unrelated. Some stupid book Grayson had gotten him for his Christmas because he thought Damian spent too long thinking about vampires.  
  
His father’s previous apprentice always wanted to get Damian out of Gotham, and while at first Damian blamed his jealously, later on he learned it was fear of Damian meeting some kind of terrible fate in the way. Or more like, fear of Damian’s incompetence. It was the same thing, but Damian had found himself enjoying his company, and even if he kept rejecting Grayson’s offer of going to train with him, he was now thankful for having something else to think about besides the vampire haunting his mind.


	3. Young and beautiful

His father hadn’t talked about Timothy ever since their -disastrous- formal introduction. Which was completely fine for Damian, except that it didn’t make him forget about the vampire.

  
  


The stupid books Grayson had gotten him weren’t helping, either. They turned out to be about vampires, of course. Grayson had surely guessed that Damian would refuse to read them otherwise- but they weren’t textbooks. They had some useful information, yes, but they were all fiction. And while Damian liked to learn that vampire skin sparkled under certain lights, it also presented the vampires as actual people instead of as the monster Damian was used to reading about. It made Damian wonder what kind of stuff timothy might be doing, when he wasn’t taunting him in his dreams. He should be thinking about his weaknesses, not about his taste in cars!  
  
Damian was pretty sure he’d like the bike his father got him last month, though. It was impossible not to.  
  
He would never show it to him, of course. He had absolutely no intention to ever cross paths with “Mr. Timothy Drake”, and if he rushed downstairs whenever he heard the main door open it was just because he was bored out of his mind in the Manor.  
  
Maybe he wanted to see how Timothy would react to his presence, though. The books had been really specific about vampire reactions to certain human presences, and Damian would be lying if he didn’t admit he’d like to see Timothy squirm.  
  
And that was how he found himself standing on the kitchen doorway looking at Pennyworth and his vampire having a friendly conversation over some coffee.  
  
"Master Damian, I believe you already know Mr. Drake," Alfred commented, standing up from his chair.  
  
"I do."  
  
The awkward silence that fell over the room made Damian feel like he had already messed up with just two words. Scowling, he walked up to the fridge to get some… anything. Juice would do.  
  
"I will return to my work now, I’m sure Master Bruce will be here shortly. I will tell him of your arrival."  
  
Damian heard Alfred walk out of the room before he could even close the fridge door, and he was left alone with Timothy Drake. Timothy, who hadn’t opened his mouth ever since Damian had arrived. And who didn’t seem bothered even in the slightest by Damian’s presence.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Damian finally snapped out, and almost immediately regretted it. If he wanted to get to know more about Drake -and maybe he did, but just for mission related reasons- being impolite wouldn’t help, and he knew it.  
  
"I have some information for your father, and since he’s not here your butler invited me to have some coffee." And finally, Timothy looked up and smiled at Damian.  
  
If he had jumped and bit down on his neck right there and then, Damian wouldn’t have blinked.  
  
What right did he have to be so ridiculously charming?  
  
Like in a trance, he walked up and sat next to Tim, not noticing how his smile became slightly sharper as he did.  
  
"How have you been, Damian? Did you go hunting again?"  
  
In the book, it had been the vampire the one acting all tense and not knowing what to say. Right now, though, it felt like Tim was the one with the upper hand. Scowling to hide his embarrassment and the way it warmed him up to hear his own name from the vampire’s lips, Damian took a sip from his juice and glared up at Tim. How dared he make Damian feel this way.  
  
"I have no desire to put myself in a position where I might met more stupid people like you."  
  
And there went again all his good intentions to appear polite. At least, the vampire seemed more amused than angry.  
  
"I thought that was precisely your dream job. Not going to follow daddy’s footsteps?"  
  
"I can wait until I know for sure which insects should I kill. You didn’t really look much better than a cockroach, back then, you know."  
  
“Oh, but I’m sure you know a lot already,” Timothy purred pleasantly.  
  
"I know enough to get you lying down on an alley struggling to breathe!"  
  
"That was under special circumstances." Timothy seemed to be perfectly at ease with the circumstances,of their first meeting. More than Damian himself. "But I’m sure you could manage against a vampire in a normal situation too, right?"  
  
Tim’s voice was dripping honey, and Damian had to repress the shiver that was creeping up his back. Even if they were just chatting in the kitchen, he couldn’t forget that the vampire was a predator. A predator who would probably rip his neck open if they weren’t in the Wayne Manor and with his father about to arrive.

Well, Damian would show him that he could and should be feared in his own right.  
  
And maybe he also wanted to impress him a bit.  
  
"Of course I could!" Damian straightened his back and tried to look as self assured as possible. "I know everything that there’s to know, and I would have practiced it already if Father wasn’t so stubborn."  
  
"My family will cower in fear when I tell them about you," Tim mused, eyes bright with mirth.  
  
"They should. Ask me anything about vampires.”

  
"Alright then. How fast can a vampire run?"  
  
The smile disappeared from Tim’s face as it had never been there, just like his playful mood. Damian leaned back as the vampire leaned towards him. As soon as Damian realized what he was doing, he straightened up again, but it was stupid to think that Tim wouldn’t have noticed. Well, if he thought he could make Damian lose his concentration, he was going to be surprised.  
  
"Sixty miles per hour, of course," he answered, and saw satisfied how Tim’s pupils widened.  
  
"That’s nice, but also a gross overestimation. I know one of us who used to be an olympic athlete, and even when he’s just fed he can’t get over thirty. What nonsense are you studying?" Tim lifted his eyebrow, making Damian’s sense of security crumble. "How long can a vampire go without blood?"  
  
"A month in a coffin, two weeks when awake and moving," Damian grumbled as a reply. He knew it was correct, he could see his notes in front of him and remember his father’s voice as he told him.  
  
"A month is correct, but if awake a vampire needs blood at least once every two days. Three and they end like you found me."  
  
"Are you trying to make me underestimate vampires?” Damian finally snapped. “I’m not going to get fooled that easily!"  
  
"I’m not lying," Tim replied, leaning back, and Damian realized that the questioning -and his chance to make a good impression- were over. "Overestimating your enemy can be just as dangerous, and I’m sure your father will confirm my answers if you ask him directly."  
  
"Father was the one who told me all that! Why would he lie to me?"  
  
"He’s probably trying to protect you. If you think vampires are more dangerous than they really are, you’ll be too scared to hunt them. Not that it’s working, now, is it?"  
  
Damian scowled and looked away from Tim’s cheerful eyes.  
  
It actually made sense, seeing how his father insisted in not letting him go to the hunts, and how he didn’t want Damian to practice with the actual weapons. Except that his father knew perfectly well that one day, sooner or later, Damian would go hunting. What was he going to do then? Was he so scared after what happened to Todd, that he wanted to keep Damian away from everything, forever?  
  
Nonsense. He had gone hunting once, he could do it again, and he’d learn what to do even if he had to do it alone! The library books were probably accurate. He’d start using them more, even if it meant he would have to throw all his notes away. There was a lot to plan. Damian stood up from the chair with decision.  
  
"One day I’ll be a hunter, and I’ll catch you."  
  
"Will you kill me after I gave you tips?" Tim’s smile showed how little he thought of Damian’s words, but he sounded sincere when he continued, "good luck with that."  
  
"I didn’t say I would kill you. But I’ll show you what I can do.”  
  
"And I will be waiting."


	4. I'm trying to tell you what I dream of

It was barely three days after his chat with Timothy when a new visitor arrived to the Manor. This one wasn’t as unexpected, though.   
  
“What do you mean you forgot I was coming? I can’t believe it. You’re becoming more and more like your father every day.” Dick smiled, obviously not as offended as he said, and put a bag on Damian’s arm. “I have to talk to your father, so you can take that to my room as a compensation.”   
  
“I don’t have to do anything for you. I’m a busy person,” Damian snapped at him, but he held onto the bag. “I’m surprised New York is still standing, what with you living there and all.”   
  
“You wound me, Damian,” Dick replied, clutching his chest dramatically. “Your training is obviously working. Has your dad finally let you go patrol with him some nights?”   
  
That was one of the reasons Damian liked Grayson more than he’d ever admit out loud. He believed Damian was more competent than his father did.   
  
“He’s as stubborn as always, and you know it as well as I do. I will never convince him.”   
  
Despite what Dick had just said, when Damian started moving, instead of going on separate ways Dick walked with him towards his old room in the Manor. To Damian, the air felt cleaner with Grayson next to him, a good change from the usually somber presences in the building. As much as Damian hated to admit it -because he loved his father, he really did- he has missed his old mentor. Even if they had only been training together for two months.   
  
“Come on, don’t look so upset. Did you at least read the books I gave you? You need to think on things besides training, you know?”   
  
“You always say that.” Damian sighed loudly. “It would only make Father think I’m not putting enough effort in my studies.”   
  
“That’s not true.” Dick opened the door to his room and picked up the bag from Damian’s arms without even looking inside. “Come in, we can talk for a bit longer before dinner. I brought you souvenirs. I wish you had read the books I gave you too, though. A new one just came out. I thought about getting it for you too.”   
  
“Wait, what do you mean with a new one? There are more?”   
  
“You mean more books about vampires?” Dick blinked in surprise. “Are you interested? I never thought you’d like them enough to want to read more.”   
  
“That’s preposterous.” Damian stared in astonishment. “Of course I want to read more! Have you already forgotten what am I training for?”   
  
“Well, yes, but training and reading those kind of books are different things.” Dick scratched his head. He looked embarrassed. Obviously, from not having made such a logical assumption by himself. Of that, Damian was certain. “Man, your father’s going to kill me.”   
  
“I accept no excuses, Grayson. I demand you to acquire more books.”   
  
“Fine, fine,” Dick laughed and ruffled his hair, avoiding with no trouble Damian’s following attempt to kick him in the shin. “I can’t deny I’m glad you’re reading something that isn’t one of those dreadful theoretical books, to be honest. Bruce was never the best at picking reading material for kids. Or the best at kids, in general.”   
  
“I am not an infant that needs to be coddled.”   
  
“I know that, Damian. You’ve grown so much already.” Dick’s nostalgic tone made Damian feel embarrassed for some reason he didn’t care to examine. “Look, I know you’re training hard, but are you doing okay? Not just with training. Do you feel lonely or-”   
  
Tim’s face appeared on Damian’s mind, and that was his cue for changing the topic immediately. The situation was awkward enough as it was.   
  
“Enough with the nonsense. Didn’t you want to speak with father? I believe he’s in his study at this hour.”   
  
“I didn’t came just for him, Damian. You know that, right?”   
  
“Grayson, stop being an embarrassment.” He knew his ears were burning, and he hated it. “Whatever you have to discuss, discuss it with him. He’s the one who adopted you, so if you want to be a sap that’s his responsibility, not mine.”   
  
Dick laughed and dropped the topic, choosing to look around the bedroom instead. He set the bag on the bed, took off his jacket and put it on a table, and in the space of thirty seconds everything looked like an absolute mess. It was a skill Damian had yet to master. It would be useful whenever he wanted to annoy his father, though, so he was interested in learning it.   
  
“Alright, I have an idea. What if I go talk to Bruce now, finish sharing intel as soon as I can, and when I come back to New York you come with me?”   
  
“To New York with you?” Damian blinked, trying to dispel the surprise away. “Why would I go to New York with you?”   
  
“Because you want to spend some quality time with your big brother?”   
  
“What about no.” If Grayson thought his smile would have any effect on Damian, well, he should know better. It might have worked on anybody else, yes, but Damian wasn’t just anybody. “I have too much training to do. I’ve barely started reading the most recent advances on the fight against vampire strength, and-”   
  
“Come on, don’t try to pull that on me. Your father travelled all over the world, do you think he’d have become so good at what he does by just staying in Gotham reading books?” Dick’s smile grew a bit vicious. “Plus, if you come with me, I wouldn’t keep you reading books all day. You should be starting your real training already.”   
  
Against his will, Damian could feel his jaw fall slightly open. Real hands on training was something he had been dreaming for so long, it was unbelievable that it could actually happen!   
  
Dick’s walk around the room had brought him closer to where Damian was standing, close enough for Damian to analyze his expressions. He looked sincere. And Damian allowed himself to hope.   
  
“Do you think Father would allow it? He doesn’t even let me to get close the armory!” Of course that didn’t stop Damian from getting thoroughly acquainted with it whenever he could. Dick didn’t need to know that, though. Poking around the weapons wasn’t the same as being trained in its use, anyways. “And why would he trust you with teaching me? You don’t even have vampires in New York!”   
  
“Hey, of course we do! I don’t only go around rescuing kittens from trees, you know.” Dick puffed air, making a stray hair strand rise up. He looked utterly ridiculous, and at the same time like Damian’s salvation. “And I know you’ll love the city. Just wait.”   
  
Damian pondered his options briefly. His father didn’t have any intentions to train him himself anytime soon, that much was clear, and even if he had much work to do with his studies… Well. He couldn’t deny that after his last encounter with Timothy, his trust on the effects of all that hard work had diminished. Proper training sounded better than keep trying to sneak off every night, anyways.   
  
Timothy was a presence still in his mind, of course. He wanted to show the vampire what he could do, but from his previous experience Damian had deduced there weren’t many ways for him to impress Timothy.   
  
At least, not yet.   
  
“Very well.” Damian crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Dick straight in the eye. “I will go with you, as long as you manage to convince father. Which I doubt you will. And if I decide your city sucks, I’ll come back whenever I want.”   
  
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Dick leaned down and, before Damian could react, pressed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “I’ll go talk to Bruce,” he added, completely ignoring Damian’s dramatic attempts to clean his cheek with his sleeve. “Be right back!”   
  
\-   
  
As it turned out, Grayson wasn’t ‘right back’. In fact, it had been thirty minutes already, if the clock in the kitchen was to be trusted. Damian had left the bedroom pretty soon after Dick did, because it didn’t feel right to stay there when it was empty. It being close to lunch time didn’t help, either. His stomach had started to remind him. However, he was unable to sit still while waiting for Pennyworth to finish cooking up the meal, knowing his future was being discussed barely two rooms away.   
  
Tired of counting the seconds in the clock, he eventually stood up from his perch at the counter. The elderly butler had long ago admitted his defeat regarding proper use of kitchen furniture, and he allowed Damian to sit in there as long as there were no visits and he didn’t leave any stains. Just another of the many ways Damian felt no one really cared about what he did in that house, as long as he did it unobtrusively. Shaking his head to stop that line of thought, he left the room and started walking towards his father’s study without saying a single word. The way there seemed more silent and empty as usual, now that he had grown accustomed again, even if for just a minute, to his brother’s bright presence.   
  
Enough of that. If they didn’t finish discussing whatever matters had brought Grayson there in five minutes, Damian would come in. Without even knocking. And he wouldn’t even knock, because his father didn’t deserve it.   
  
Another five minutes couldn’t hurt, though.   
  
Turned out that it was obviously easier said than done. In truth, it didn’t help that the last time Damian had been waiting behind that door had been to be formally introduced to Timothy. The air had always seemed heavier in that part of the house, but now that he knew vampires often frequented it, it wasn’t a surprise. For all he knew, really, Father might be talking with another vampire behind that door right at that moment! Grayson’s voice came through just loud enough for any others to be muffled, making it impossible for Damian to determine what his father or any other possible guests were saying. Not loud enough for Damian to fully follow the conversation, though, and after another ten minutes had passed, Damian admitted to himself he wouldn’t be able to open the door until the yelling had ended.   
  
The moment it did, the silence around Damian became so deafening he couldn’t wait another second. Knocking on the door -because thinking about it, being rude wouldn’t make his father more willing to listen- he opened it and stepped inside the room at last.   
  
The room in front of him was the same as it had been the last time he had been there, but at the same time it couldn’t look any more different. The curtains had been moved away, allowing all the light from Gotham’s midday to come through. It wasn’t that much, compared to other places, but it made a dramatic contrast with the corridor he had been in until one second ago. And the figures inside weren’t sitting calmly. On one hand, there was Bruce, starting to his full height with his arms crossed. On the other, Dick was pacing around the room, practically fuming.  Conversation didn’t seem to be going all that well, and Damian felt his hopes start to crumble.   
  
“Why are you here, Damian?” Dick asked. “I told you I’d take care of this.”   
  
“You’re always taking care of things nobody asked your opinion about. Damian is perfectly fine here, and he’s too young to start traveling like I did.”   
  
“You were traveling alone, Bruce! I would protect him! Why do you have to be so overbearing?”   
  
The conversation soon resumed like if Damian hadn’t come in. And resumed sinking pretty fast, as well. If he wanted to do something, he’d have to do it immediately.   
  
“Father, you might not think that Grayson’s opinion is important, but mine is! And I want to go with him!” Damian crossed the room in long steps and stood in front of his father. Even if his constitution wasn’t half as impressive, he did his best to mimic his father’s posture and continued. “I’m tired of being locked here all day!”   
  
“That you’re bored of studying already is even more of a reason to think you’re too young to be out on your own. Until you haven’t finished learning everything you need to know to protect yourself, I refuse to let you out of sight.” Bruce’s glare was now directed at Damian. It didn’t really feel like an improvement of the situation from when he had been staring at Dick.   
  
“I’m already always out of your sight!” Damian threw his arms up in the air. “You spend the day off hunting or doing research or in missions and I don’t even know where are you. If you’re worried about me being alone, I’m better off with Grayson!”   
  
The last yell echoed in the room’s high ceilings, and nobody moved for a second. Dick’s expression was frozen between tense and appalled, Damian was trying to keep his posture firm for as long as he could, and Bruce’s face was as unreadable as always.   
  
Finally, it was Bruce the one that broke the silence.   
  
“I’ve just been doing what’s best for you.”   
  
“We know that,” Dick suddenly said, interrupting what would surely have been otherwise a long rant explaining Bruce’s motives. “Of course you have nothing but Damian’s best interests in mind. If keeping him on a tight leash forever meant he’d be safe forever, I’d do that as well. But-” he lifted a hand in warning towards Damian before he could protest, “we already know that’s not the way. You know what happened to Jason.”  
  
Both Bruce and Damian tensed up. Damian, because he knew well what happened whenever his predecessor was mentioned; Bruce, he didn’t know. But surprisingly, this time it didn’t end with Bruce shutting down and throwing them out like Damian would have thought it would.  
  
"I guess there’s some reason in what you say," Bruce admitted, conceded really. Damian stopped breathing. "Damian does want to go with you, as well. I’ll think about it and give you my answer tonight."  
  
"Sounds good. Wanna patrol together?" Dick smiled, and with that alone the heavy atmosphere in the room seemed to lift up. Damian didn’t even know what had happened.   
"Of course. Now we should have lunch, though. Alfred is probably not happy with us making him wait."  
  
As they walked out, Dick gave Damian a thumbs up. Well, Grayson had always been better at reading his father than he was, so hopefully that meant everything would be alright, after all.  
  
-  
  
New York was big and busy, just like one could expect from any major city.   
  
However, it was also bright. Not as much as Metropolis, definitely not even close to the places Damian had grown up at, but its atmosphere was still completely different to Gotham’s. The weather still was terrible, but not as bad as Gotham’s, either. Between that and his training, Damian didn’t feel too eager to go back, as it turned out. Despite all his complaints about him, Damian had to admit Grayson wasn’t bad company either.  
  
Plus he could find dozens and dozens of vampire books in any library there. They had been taboo in Gotham, and no one would have wanted to read them anyways.  
  
However, the turnabout point that made Damian decide to lengthen his visit indefinitely came from a completely unexpected event.  
  
"Grayson, there’s something in my face!” Damian slammed the door to Dick’s bedroom open. “Did I get an infection? I told you you should have cleaned those pizza boxes ages ago!"  
  
"What?" Grayson was never the most coherent person in the odd hours of the morning, as Damian knew well. Still, Damian had an emergency and that took priority. "Weren’t you going to recycle those?"  
  
"Yes, but I was investigating and- nevermind that!" Damian threw a pillow from the floor to Dick’s head. He didn’t even react. "I’m infected!"  
  
"I see nothing that looks like an infection, Damian. Go back to sleep. This is what happens from reading all those bad novels."  
  
"They’re not bad novels, they’re investigation material! And what about my health? Weren’t you going to protect me? You promised it to father!"  
  
"A pimple never killed anybody, Damian." At last, Dick sat up. The pillow tumbled back down to the floor where it clearly belonged, together with the other five or so that were already there. "I went through my good share of them during puberty."  
  
"Wait. What do you mean with puberty?"   
  
“You know, pimples, growing hair, making an embarrassing attempt at a moustache, getting your voice high pitched…”   
  
“That- is that going to happen to me?!” Was his voice weird already? It sounded weird to Damian.   
  
“Don’t worry, Damian, it’s normal.” Dick gave him what obviously attempted to be a reassuring smile. It did not work. “I’m sure after it ends you’ll be all handsome like your parents.”   
  
“After it ends? How long is that going to take?”   
  
“I don’t know, five years? It’ll be fin-”   
  
“No!” Damian yelled, not caring for Dick’s reassurances, and ran out of the room.   
  
The bathroom, with all the chaos in it, was reasonably clean, and it had a mirror big enough for Damian to be able to see his face properly. It was unbelievable. To think his face would end up like the ones of those unlikeable thugs that he often saw lounging around schools… It was a nightmare! What would Timothy think if he saw him like that? Timothy’s face was always flawless, even at his most weakened state.   
  
Knowing that, it was easy for Damian to take his decision. He’d perfect his training and widen his knowledge while waiting for this embarrassing stage of his life to pass, and then and only then, he’d return. He’d become someone worthy of Timothy’s attention, for sure.

  
The pimples had to go first, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of what is basically the AU's introduction! Don't worry, it's not going to turn out to be 100k long, but I love slow buildups /o\
> 
> Next we have a timeskip and the actual timdamian will begin!


	5. One look sends it cursing through the veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna try to update faster! Though Christmas challenge is coming up so the next chapter will definitely not be as fast as this one. But definitely faster than the previous one. Balance is the key, they say. Big, big changes happen in this chapter! You'll see you'll see.

  
Damian was sure that there was no sound in the world as disgusting as the one his boots made when they were filled to the rim with water. It did nothing but announce every person in a fifty feet radius that yes, he had managed to get his feet soaked despite his very expensive water boots. Of course, it wasn’t technically the boots’ fault. There was only so much they could do when one jumped straight into a puddle. One that reached up to his thighs.  
  
Not a puddle, technically, either. A small lake. A stupid hole casually hidden in the middle of the road, who knows how. At least New York, as hateful as the weather had been, had better roads.  
  
But it didn’t have Timothy. And that was, after all, the one single reason Damian had decided to go back to Gotham, after six long years and despite his family’s opposition. Dick had insisted that his training wasn’t complete. Of course, if he or his father were to choose, Damian knew he’d turn eighty with his training incomplete. It was clear that neither of them had much to teach him anymore, though.  
  
Maybe his father did, alright, but he had refused to teach him anything past the theory. It was as good as nothing. He rarely left Gotham, anyways. In fact, that had been the excuse Damian gave Dick for going back there: getting the chance to learn from his father.  
  
And stealth, the reason he had used to travel alone.  
  
In theory, he was going to take the train and his father would pick him up. At least, that was what he had told Grayson. His father, on the other hand, thought that Dick was taking him there. It was a risky bet, but Damian was certain he could pull it off. If everything went well, he’d be home before either of them had a chance notice. And hopefully, with his first kill done.  
  
Dick had lied to him when he had first left Gotham, of course. There were no vampires in New York. In Gotham, however, Bruce would never allow him to actually kill one of them by himself once Damian got back. That was the reason he desperately needed the two free hours in Gotham’s downtown he had gained with his ruse.  
  
He wanted a full vampire this time. One that would put up a fight. He wouldn’t go after a starving and weakened vampire this time. As much as he had never regretted his first attempt, since it made him met Timothy, this time he’d do it right.  
  
Everybody knew that crime alley was the biggest vampire den in all of Gotham. Possibly, also the world’s. No human unable to fend for themselves ever went there alone. And therefore, it was perfect for Damian’s plans.  
  
Well. He wouldn’t have minded a dryer place, if he had to be honest. His boots were still splashing with every step.  
  
However, it would do.  
  
There! There was someone in the next alley, right in front of him. Standing to full height, although they -he?- didn’t look any taller than Damian himself did. It made him wonder for a moment that he might have grown up to be taller than Timothy himself. The idea made a thrill of excitement to run through his veins. He’d be able to tower over Timothy, and Timothy would have to look up at him, and Damian could lean down and-  
  
He was getting ahead of himself. The vampire, because what else could he be, in front of him, hadn’t moved in the slightest. There as a streetlight behind him, so Damian could barely see beyond his silhouette, but he was reminded of Timothy, in a way. The inhumane stillness, for example. It was obvious that this vampire wasn’t starving or anything of the sort. There was something in the way he held himself that spoke of power.  
  
It would be nothing against Damian’s own strength, though. Ignoring the rain, Damian took a stake from his belt and approached the man.  
  
"You-!"  
  
The effect was immediate. As if spurned by the sound of his voice, a dozen more dark shapes sprung from every window and crevice that opened to the alley and jumped on Damian, latching onto everything they could grab onto.  
  
Damian was pretty sure that that wasn’t supposed to happen. Unless it was a trap, that is.  
  
"Damn it!" His voice only seemed to spur the vampires further, and despite Damian’s best attempts to avoid them soon he was partly immobilized by inhumanly strong limbs.  
  
His legs and right arm were all tightly held, and the hands holding him just wouldn’t give, no matter how hard he pushed and pulled. He was going to meet his end before he had even started. The world obviously didn’t want him to be a vampire hunter.  
  
All his training, rage and frustration made something awake inside of him. Without even thinking about it, he grabbed the stake still in his immobilized right hand with the other and started slashing the creatures left and right. He even managed to stab something. Probably. When he pulled the stake out of a body, a vampire fell to the ground. Cold blood splashed Damian’s clothes, adding to the water already saturating them. Another stab, and the hand holding his right arm released him.  
  
Still, before he could do more new hands grabbed at him. Damian couldn’t even count how many of them was he fighting against, between the darkness and the movement and the panic blinding him. Slowly, his struggling died out, and someone ripped his scarf off his neck. He was on display, all eyes on him, and not a single pair of them came ever close to the blue on Timothy’s.  
  
Then a piercing pain shot through his neck, and the darkness swallowed him leaving behind nothing but the memory of Timothy’s eyes in his mind.  
  
The next time he opened his own, Damian found the scenery didn’t look all that different. It was still dark, he still felt cold, and Timothy’s eyes were still in front of him. He didn’t hurt anymore, though, so he didn’t question it for a while. There was no strength left in him for that.  
  
"You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met," Timothy’s voice echoed around him. Damian guessed he should be thankful he didn’t have to relive his last moments over and over. He’d still rather have Timothy doting on him, of course, but he hadn’t done much to deserve it. "Going alone in there, really. Do you have an idea of what could have happened?!"  
  
Maybe if he had donated enough to charity and cleaned his bedroom from time to time the result would have been better.  
  
Would the Timothy back in Gotham miss him? He doubted he had even noticed Damian leaving years ago, much less his disappearance now. His father would be angry, of course. Grayson would cry. Damian hadn’t wanted to make him cry. Would anybody ever tell his mother? Damian hadn’t seen her for almost a decade, but he liked to think she’d care, too. And now he had let them all down.  
  
"Are you even listening, Damian?" Tim moved away before Damian could do anything to stop him. What was he going to do in the afterlife if Timothy didn’t appear again?  
  
A different face invaded his field of vision. It had been months since he had last seen his father in person, but his face wasn’t as welcome as Timothy’s had been. Damian’s weak groan of protest was unheard, though.  
  
"Why would he do that? Do you think there’s a chance he discovered our research?" His voice was entirely too loud on Damian’s ears.  
  
"That’s nonsense, he’d have known better," Damian heard Tim say out of frame. His father moved away once again. "As it is, there’s nothing we can do. You can take samples from the couple he killed-"  
  
Right, he had managed to kill a vampire, hadn’t he? It was a shame that he wouldn’t get to celebrate it. Tim didn’t look too impressed with him either, but of course, he had died. If he had lived, maybe he could have taken the memory of Tim’s admiration with him to the other side. That was probably the reason his father looked as disapproving as usual: no other references to build from. Their voices started drifting away, and soon after he lost consciousness again.  
  
When he woke up again, the pain had returned tenfold.  
  
It was impossible for death to hurt this much. He barely managed to suppress a moan of pain, and suddenly a new face he couldn’t recognize appeared in front of him.  
  
"I see you’re awake. If it was in my hand I’d give you more painkillers, but I’m afraid I can’t. We’re not sure of the effects they’d have on you in this stage. How are you feeling?"  
  
The woman’s voice was gentle, but it did nothing to distract Damian from the pain running through his veins. If his blood had turned into acid it wouldn’t hurt any more than it already did.  
  
"I’m alive?" He finally asked. He wasn’t sure if those were good news anymore.  
  
"You are, and you better be thankful about it. If Tim hadn’t found you on time… Scratch that, if they hadn’t given up on killing you by themselves, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. Hell if I know why they did. By the way, I’m your doctor, Leslie-"  
  
Another wave of pain shook Damian, and this time he was unable to repress the scream that fell from his lips. The vampires hadn’t even considered him worth killing. And it had been Timothy, of all the people, the one to find him! Clearly, dragging his half dead body hadn’t precisely endeared him to the man. Death would have been a better option than living to see the disgust in his father and Timothy’s eyes.  
  
There was some movement around the room -a hospital, it seemed- but Damian couldn’t force himself to care. What had those monsters done to him, though, if they hadn’t killed him?  
  
"Damian, Damian calm down!"  
  
His father’s voice was back, but it didn’t matter. The pain running through his veins was getting worse with each passing second. The monitor next to his bed started beeping insistently, and soon he found himself unable to understand the screaming and rushing around himself. There was one single thing that came through his muddled mind in the middle of the chaos.  
  
He was hungry.  
  
A hand pressed down on his shoulders, holding him still. It was the only part of his body he could still feel, and struggling against it was useless. Was he that weakened or did the hand weight the ten tons it felt like? He was hungry, his mouth felt as dry as sand, and he didn’t remember the last time he had eaten.  
  
"He needs the transfusion now!" That was the doctor’s voice coming from somewhere around his feet. "The anemia is too advanced to revert it!"  
  
The arms holding him down felt were pleasantly cool against his skin. It was strange to feel the people around the room looking for blood. Damian could practically hear the blood running through his veins. He didn’t feel like he’d survive long enough for the doctors to fetch the transfusion he apparently needed, and his mouth was aching to get to those veins. It felt just natural to tilt his head and close his teeth around the soft skin.  
  
Blood flowed slowly into his mouth, and the pain and the hunger seemed to recede away.  
  
"I told you, he needs me now!" That was Timothy’s voice, wasn’t it? Coming from somewhere above his head. Damian felt it reverberate in the arms holding him. It was strange, though. Damian hadn’t even thought before that it could sound as desperate.  
  
"I refuse. Tim, we’ve been allied for years now, but I won’t allow you to take my son from me just like that."  
  
"It’s not about you! It’s about what’s good for him! How can you be so selfish? Your son is a vampire now, and like it or not, he needs to be with others like him until-"  
  
A vampire. He was an only child, right? It was impossible for them to be talking about Grayson, since he was safe and sound back in New York. Todd, on the other hand, was hardly news. It was Damian. From hunter to prey. Or maybe, really, just a different kind of hunter.  
  
His father would never forgive him.  
  
And of all the things, it hadn’t even been Timothy the one to turn him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim is back to stay :'D and about the rest, we'll see!  
> PSA: Damian isn't underage at this point, he's around 19.


	6. Darling, how could you be so blind?

"Come on, wake up already!"  
  
Of all the waking up calls he'd had, Timothy's voice wasn't the worst. The jar of cold water that immediately followed, though, was a strong runner up.   
  
"What was that for?" Damian yelled, jumping out of the sofa. He'd never fallen asleep on a sofa before. How did he get there?   
  
He looked around. His head was throbbing, and there was a weird feeling nagging at his chest. The room was completely empty, save for the sofa and a table with some things on it. It was too dark to distinguish what they were, though. In fact, it was too hard to distinguish anything. Timothy was standing in front of him. A shadow darkened his expression, making it impossible to discern.   
  
"It's late. We wasted a lot of time bringing you here from the hospital that we should have used on teaching you."   
  
"Hospital?" The images rushed back to Damian's head. The noise, the hunger... "So that wasn't a dream? Did I really became a vampire?"   
  
"Not yet, but you will," was Tim's cryptic reply. Turning around, he walked to the table and started fiddling with the objects there.   
  
"Can you turn on the lights?"   
  
"No, you need to get used to the darkness. You'll be working without light from now on."   
  
For some reason, this Timothy was way less... everything than Damian had expected. There was no trace of the gentle teasing that seemed to be part of his voice in any other occasions, and both his eyes and his smile were invisible now.   
  
"And a change of clothes?"   
  
"Those are fine," Tim replied dismissively, not even sparing a glance at him.   
  
"I'm soaked!"   
  
"They'll dry up."   
  
"I'll freeze to death!"   
  
Damian was astonished. Timothy had never been precisely warm to him, but Damian had always liked to think that he wouldn't want him to die. At the very least, it would look bad in father's eyes. Probably. Unless his father didn't give a damn anymore, what with Damian being a vampire and all, but... Damian never thought things would end like this.   
  
"Start getting used to the cold, you're going to feel that forever. Side effect of the anaemia, and what not. Now, will you let me prepare this in peace?"   
  
"No! Not unless you explain!" Feeling quite wobbly, Damian managed to walk up to Tim and smack a hand on the table. It hurt. "What am I doing here? What's happening to me? If I turned into a vampire, my health should be perfect! Is it because of the severed connection?"   
  
Tim sighed heavily and turned to look at him. There was a warm smell emanating from him, reminiscent of back at the hospital. And now that they were directly looking at him, Damian could see that his eyes were just as bright as usual, except for the dark circles underneath.   
  
"Damian, I have absolutely no idea of what you're talking about."   
  
"You know," Damian insisted, trying to hide his embarrassment. "The connection between me and whoever turned me into this. Are there side effects because we didn't stay close afterwards?"   
  
The only reaction he got was a blank stare.   
  
"The vampire that bit me," he insisted.   
  
"What connection? Did you know them?"   
  
"Of course not! But since the bite comes from them-"   
  
Tim's stare became, if anything, emptier.   
  
"So you're telling me you felt a connection with that vampire because... What, love at first sight?" Tim put down what he was holding to massage his temples. "Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but I don't think they like you back. Seeing as they ran off, and all."   
  
"I don't care about them! Nor did I feel any connection," Damian admitted. "But there should be something, right? In theory? Can they control me if we meet?"   
  
"Oh. Well, that's... That's not true. At all." Tim's scathing look made Damian want to crawl into a hole and die. "Did Bruce tell you that? There aren't any mystical connections or whatever between the vampire who bites and the one who turns. It's just customary for the biter to feed the other blood and teach them until they recover enough to hunt. The transformation takes a lot from a human body. Since they disappeared, I'll be the one to do that for you."   
  
That, actually, made more sense than the stuff from the books. Damian refused to admit it, though. He felt humiliated enough.   
  
"Then why do I feel fine? It hasn't been that long, shouldn't I be in the middle of my... turning?"   
  
"Actually, it's been over a day. You've just been unconscious most of it. Plus, you drank more blood from me, which will help since I'm a full vampire."   
  
Tim rolled up his right sleeve and showed Damian a pristine white bandage. Damian didn't know why was he even surprised at this point. He was unable to forget the way the soft flesh had felt on his lips.   
  
"I... I'm sorry about that."   
  
"Well, you'd have probably died otherwise, so I can't blame you." Tim rolled down his sleeve again and buttoned it carefully. "Your father was very upset, of course, since it also accelerated the process."   
  
That made Damian remember something else.   
  
"Where's he? Father? And what about Grayson, did anybody tell him?"   
  
"Your father is upset and probably brooding somewhere in his lab. And I told Richard personally about what happened. He's also upset, and wanted to come see you right away, but I didn't let him."   
  
"Why not? I feel fine! You can't decide whether I want to receive visits or not!" Damian slammed both hands on the table, with more force this time. "You don't control my life, and neither-!"   
  
There was a sharp noise, and the wooden table cracked in the middle and collapsed onto the ground.   
  
Damian forgot what he was going to say next.   
  
"There's your answer." Tim told him once the dust had settled. "You're still not stable to go out, or even interact with normal people. That's why you were brought here."   
  
"I don't see how getting locked up in a dark, dirty room is going to be of any help," Damian snapped back at Tim.   
  
"Well, for your information, this is my house, and I don't remember asking your opinion about the decoration," Tim replied coldly. "And you might not respect me, but I know you do respect your father, and he agreed with me. Now stop being so useless and let me do my job."   
  
It was ridiculous. Everything was ridiculous. He'd never wanted to be a vampire! And if he'd ever thought about it, it was by Timothy's hand. When he finally managed to make a good impression, good enough for Timothy to decide he wanted them to be together, forever.   
  
They'd live a life of luxury like vampires are wont to do. Linked by a connection deeper than anything in the world -a connection that, apparently, was an impossible- and fight the bad vampires. Upholding his father's legacy that he had apparently dragged through the mud and spat on.   
  
The whole cold, tired, with some hunger awaking already in his stomach and Tim, in front of him, telling him how useless he was, was never part of his plan.   
  
"The only useless one here is you!" Damian finally yelled, unable to stand it anymore. "What do you even do? You're a weakling as a vampire, you do noting but hide around in dark corners and tease me! When you found me in that alley you couldn't even pursue the attackers!"   
  
"I'm the one who's going to save your ass, and you should be more thankful," was Tim's cold reply. "Now, are you going to listen to me or not?"   
  
"I don't have to listen to you! I'm an adult! And I'm leaving this disgusting place!"   
  
The temperature of the room seemed to drop a couple of degrees at the icy glare Tim sent him. Faster than Damian's eyes could follow, Tim's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.   
  
"This 'disgusting place' happens to be my house, and I can't allow you to leave."   
  
No matter how hard he struggled, Tim's grip on his wrist wouldn't budge, and when their eyes met, Damian felt scared. Not scared of Tim looking down on him, or anything of the sort. It was the genuine fear of the prey who knew it was about to met its creator. In that instant, Damian realized his life was completely out of his hands.   
  
"What are you going to do to me?" he asked, unwilling to maintain eye contact but unable to break it all the same.   
  
"As I told you before and you'd know if you had bothered to listen, I'm going to train you. As you are right now, you're a risk to this city and its inhabitants. You can't control your... strengths, nor take care of yourself. If you collaborate, you might yet live to see another sunrise," Tim finished, smiling wryly like it was a joke of sorts.   
  
"Fine," Damian replied, trying to hide the small tremble of his voice. He wasn't entirely successful. "What do you want me to do?"   
  
Tim finally looked away, bending down to retrieve one of the objects on the floor. Damian breathed out in relief.   
  
"Let's start with the basics." Tim stood up holding a bottle of pills in his hand. "As you might know, sunlight is dangerous for vampires-"   
  
"I know, because the shine gives our condition away."   
  
"What? No." Tim looked like he hadn't hear anything more stupid in his life. "Most people think we turn into ash, but that's wildly inaccurate. However, our skin is very sensitive, and we get rashes and bad sunburns even with the slightest exposition. These," he shook the pills, "don't completely solve the problem, but stop the rash from appearing in most cases. At least, with Gotham's levels of light. For the sunburns, sunscreen usually-"   
  
"Wait, that's nonsense. Are you telling me I'll get a sunburn? I've never had one in my life!"   
  
"Yes, Damian, you will get a sunburn," Tim snapped, looking exasperated once again. "And you only need a couple of seconds of exposure to develop it, so I'd rather not have you do that."   
  
"I refuse. I'm not going to use sunscreen in Gotham of all places."   
  
With decision, he walked towards one of the black curtains, ready to rip it away and show Timothy just how wrong he was, but once again it was Tim's grip in his arm that stopped him.   
  
"Do you always have to be this stubborn? Fine, I'll show you."   
  
Keeping Damian away with one hand, he lifted a corner of the curtain with the other and stuck his hand outside. After what seemed like an eternity, but Damian knew had only been a couple of seconds, he moved it back, wincing slightly when the heavy curtain brushed against the skin.   
  
"See?" Tim moved his hand so it was right in front of Damian's eyes. The skin was now reddened, and had started to flake in places. "There's no rash, since I already took the pills, but the sunburn appears all the same."   
  
Saying that Damian was stunned would have been an understatement.   
  
"Why'd you do that?! You knew you'd get hurt!"   
  
"Because I couldn't allow you to get hurt. I'm supposed to make sure you'll be safe until the adaptation period ends."   
  
Damian did not get any warm feelings at that. He absolutely didn't. Specially because he knew Timothy was only acting as he did out of a misplaced sense of duty. He felt no love or appreciation towards Damian, nor Damian towards him. This Timothy was completely different to the one he had grown up thinking of, and the bitterness he felt at the discovery completely swallowed any gratitude that might be in him. And so, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he disliked -no, despised- this Tim. It was just that he knew he'd get nowhere by arguing at this point. And so he didn't.   
  
"Very well. I will listen to what you have to say about my current condition." The tension in Tim's shoulders lifted up slightly, and Damian hated himself for wanting to keep it that way. "I will, however, obey you as I see fit. As you said, there's no link towards us, and even if I'm a new vampire I don't owe you any respect."   
  
"I guess I can't expect anything better than that from a Wayne. You're all so stubborn."   
  
Tim seemed to be talking to himself as much as to Damian, and soon the uncomfortable silence from before was back.   
  
"Can I eat something? Damian finally asked. He was half used to his wet clothes already, but the hunger that had started echoing a while ago didn't seem like the kind one could just get used to. It’d just get bigger. "It doesn't have to be blood. In fact, I'd prefer if it wasn't blood."   
  
"You can't eat that much blood, anyways. Your stomach still has to get adapted to it. Anyways, unless you want to be one of those hunger-crazy vampires, you'll have to learn how to survive without it more than once a day."   
  
"Alright, so, can I eat?"   
  
"Well," Tim replied. It didn't sound too promising. "You better sit down for this part."   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole thing in the trains wooh. Other passengers must think I'm crazy at this point. Hope you enjoy! Because Damian isn't enjoying this part. At all.


	7. Snap out of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually finished this chapter a week ago but I've been busy with the move oops. Damian is still having some trouble with his changes.

"What about chocolate?"  
  
"Forget about it."   
  
"Ice cream?"   
  
"Consider yourself lactose intolerant. You're also allergic to most vitamins and carbohydrates, by the way."   
  
"Can I even eat meat?"   
  
"Not unless it's human." Tim's face didn't show any kind of reaction to Damian's disgusted expression. "Anything else would cause an intolerance. Although I’d rather if you could pass without cannibalism, as well."   
  
"Are you crazy? Of course I won’t do that! But then, what can I eat?" Damian asked again, marking every word. "And don't answer me with a list of things I cannot eat. You left that clear enough the first time."   
  
The shadow of a smile passed Tim's face. It was gone before Damian could have confirmed it for sure. For all he knew, it might as well be caused by some strange vampirism side effect on his vision. Vampirism was nothing but side effects, it seemed. Bad side effects.   
  
"To be honest, it's shorter than the list of things you can't eat, so maybe I should have started from there." Damn Timothy, he was definitely smiling as he said that. "Some boiled vegetables are fine, like potatoes, and... potatoes, really. Oatmeal too, but only cooked in water, obviously. No milk. And you can’t add salt, sugar, vinegar, pepper, or anything of the sort. And definitely you shouldn’t even come close to-"   
  
"Let me guess. Garlic?"   
  
"Exactly."   
  
"Brilliant." Damian lifted his arms dramatically before letting them fall next to him weakly. "A life of potatoes and oatmeal. Are you sure it's not just that you can't cook anything else?"   
  
"I wish, but we've done extensive tests. You can only use them as fillers, though. Our digestive system can barely gain any nutrients from any foods other than humans." Tim smiled wrily, like he was legitimately sorry. "In fact, we'd need impossible amounts to sustain our bodies normally. Think of two adults a day per vampire. That's what these-" he sat down next to Damian and pressed another bottle of pills into Damian's open palm. "-are for. It's iron and a mix of other minerals and proteins. A vampire's body requires a lot of that."   
  
"Wait. So when you say anaemia, you meant it literally?"   
  
"It's more than just lack of iron, but... yes? I mean, the body works in a completely different way after transformation, so using regular human terms to explain it it's not completely correct. But yes, you can imagine it as anaemia.”   
  
"Great." Damian looked at the amount of bottles around the room. "I feel like I'm eighty now. What else did vampirism give me? Asthma?"   
  
"Actually-" Tim trailed off at Damian's scathing look. "Fine, I'm kidding. The allergies and supplements are the two most important things, don't worry. There are no other major drawbacks.”   
  
Damian sighed dramatically again.   
  
"So you mean that when I feel hungry, I'll have to just take a pill and go on?"   
  
"No, you'll have to drink blood as well from time to time. Just try to control the hunger. You don't need solid food anymore. And speaking of that..."

Tim leaned closer.  
  
"Wait.” Damian squirmed away from Tim. “I don't think I want to hear what's next. Can't we just, I don't know-"   
  
"Damian, wait a second and listen. You need to eat."   
  
"I see no blood here. Or potatoes."   
  
Tim sat closer to Damian, making the sweet scent from before reach Damian's nostrils once again. It was indescribable, alien to anything Damian had experienced before, making his heart stop in its tracks. It was going to kill him.   
  
"You're ridiculous." Tim's scowl darkened his face for a second before clearing up again. "I'm feeding you. Come on, you can bite."   
  
the world had gone mad.   
  
"You want me to drink your blood?"   
  
"Yes, Damian, I don't know how much clearer you want it. I'm right here, I fed recently, and vampire blood is the one you'll be able to stomach the easiest until the transformation is over."   
  
"You want me to drink your blood?!"   
  
Tim started unbuttoning his shirt in silence. And truth be told, even if Damian had decided he didn't want anything to do with him from now on, he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering to the grayish skin that was being revealed under the fabric. He hated the idea of being a vampire, he didn't want to drink blood, he didn't want to be near Timothy, but the hunger and the years old desire gnawing at his gut were too strong to ignore.   
  
He might not want to eat, but at that instant, he felt like he'd die if he didn't.   
  
"Fine. I'll do it." Damian replied to Tim's unasked question. "Don't move."   
  
"Wasn't planning to." Tim tilted his head in an entirely too enticing way, making Damian's mouth water. "Now get to it."   
  
He didn't need to hear it twice. Leaning down, Damian followed his newly acquired instincts and sunk his teeth -when did they get so sharp, anyways?- down right on top of the artery. Warm, but not as warm as a healthy person's, blood, flooded his mouth. It was exactly the same as back in the hospital, except that now Damian was awake and aware enough to feel it. Maybe blood was really an acquired taste, because the times he had accidentally tasted his own, back when he was a human, were nothing like Tim's now.   
  
When the sound of his name reached Damian's ears, he realized it was probably not the first time Tim had said.   
  
"Damian, can't you hear me? I'm telling you that's enough!"   
  
Damian pushed himself away -and accidentally, Tim backwards- in his hurry to get away.   
  
"I'm sorry! I didn't-"   
  
"It's fine, Damian, calm down." Tim, looked a shade paler than before, sat up again and started closing his shirt over the already healing wound. "I offered, remember?"   
  
"But I-"   
  
"Seriously, Damian, drop it. It's fine. You have to feed, you haven't had any chances to practice yet, you'll get better and there's no harm done. I feed recently, I'm fine."   
  
Damian reminded himself that he felt nothing even close to affection for this man, and kept his mouth shut. Tim nodded to himself and grabbed his wrist, poking and prodding until Damian got too uncomfortable to keep the contact.   
  
"What are you doing?" he snarled, moving his hand away from Tim's grasp.   
  
"I'm checking your pulse. Or more like, lack of it." Tim, undeterred by Damian's reaction, lifted a hand to touch under Damian's chin, but retired it before Damian could voice any more complaints. "I have to make sure your transformation is going properly. Everything seems normal for now, though, so don't worry."   
  
"I wasn't worried." Indeed, Damian hadn't been. Until now, that is. When had his heart stopped beating? He had never considered any problems with his transformation itself a possibility. "Is everything normal?"   
  
"Yes, well, but-" Tim finally looked at him in the eye again. "It's strange."   
  
"What is?"   
  
"You."   
  
Damian bristled a bit at that.   
  
"Hey, you're the one who has been a vampire for the longest, and failed to live up to the expectations."   
  
"Please, no one would've been able to live up to your expectations. But no, I don't mean that. You're weird, for a vampire."   
  
"What does that even mean? I'm still transforming, am I not?"   
  
"Well, yes, but..." The words hung heavy in the air between them. "Even if the process can take up to a week, there’s something in you- The eyes are usually one of the first signs. Can you see well?"   
  
"I do, of course. Why wouldn't I?" Damian looked around the room. "I know I complained at first, but my eyes got used to the dark now. Pretty much. It's not a surprise, following what you said."   
  
"They still look the same."   
  
"Who?"   
  
"Your eyes. They look..." Tim broke the distance between them, leaning close as if to try peek beyond Damian's irises. "Human."   
  
Damian swallowed down the flush that threatened to rise to his cheeks. Vampires shouldn't even be able to blush. Unable to resist the pressure, he leaned away from Tim. The silence between them allowed him to notice the sound of the rain, suddenly falling heavy outside. He remembered checking the weather before leaving for Gotham, right after he finished packing. And how could he forget the dreadful puddles surrounding the scenario of his demise? The storms would last the whole week. His life had changed so much since, then, though, it seemed like an outrage that the weather report was still valid. His life back in New York might as well have happened in another universe.   
  
"What's wrong with that?" he finally replied, the words tasting heavy in his mouth. "Maybe my eyes are just like that."   
  
"That makes no sense."   
  
"What do you know? Have you turned that much people that you know how they all evolve?"   
  
"No, I haven't. Nor have I seen any transformation other than mine. But the process has been thoroughly documented in the past. It's been almost two days, your eyes should have finished changing. And no vampire has eyes like yours.”   
  
"Then I guess it's fortunate that I don't care about your opinion, don't you agree?" Damian was sure that the look in Tim's eyes wasn't hurt. How could it be?   
  
"I guess so." Tim stood up from the sofa and walked over to the table. "Well, since you're so sure that you have everything under control, maybe it's time to get out of here. You can leave the table as it is. Right now you seem stable enough, so-"   
  
"I couldn't agree more," Damian replied immediately, walking up to Tim. "Where are we going? Hunting? Are we going to run through the city?"   
  
"No, we're going to the manor."   
  
Damian made a disgruntled noise. The answering sound that came out of Tim's smooth couldn't be anything but a snort, but Damian chose to ignore it.   
  
"Why there?"   
  
"I thought you'd like to see your house, after all these years-"   
  
"You thought wrong."   
  
"We still have to go, Damian. Your father is waiting for us.”   
  
There was a weight on Damian's arm. Looking down, he realized it was Tim's arm. He didn't know what was stranger: a comforting gesture from the man he had been yelling at ten minutes ago, or the way the touch felt unreal, warmth-less. Was it because of Tim's skin, or because of Damian's own? He had never been much for human touch, but would he become unable to feel it as time went? Become numb to it? Forget Grayson’s hugs and his mother’s kisses?   
  
"Can I at least see Grayson?"   
  
"I'm sure he'll be there when we arrive." Tim's smile, this time, didn't seem to be precisely directed at him. It was disappointing. "Come with me, we'll take the car."   
  
"You can't drive? It's still day, wouldn't you spontaneously combu-" Tim's cutting glare made him stop in his tracks. "I mean, won't you get allergies? Won't I, as well?"   
  
"There's barely any light with the storm right now, and the car's windows are made of special glass. Courtesy of your father."   
  
"Me thinking he was all about hunting, and it turns out he was making you special cars. The more you know." Damian rolled his eyes and followed Tim to the door.   
  
"Oh, Damian, there are many things you don't know about your father," Tim replied mysteriously before unlocking the entrance door. "Don't forget your meds."


	8. Wash away this jet black feeling

The trip there had been a disaster. The so-called extra thick tinted glass completely blocked sunlight from the outside. Damian's eyes might have adapted to darkness already, but he still lacked the apparently magical skill Tim had to navigate the streets looking at nothing but the dim shapes of the buildings through the windows. If they could really be called such thing.

To make matters worse, the darkness and the car movement had seemed to upset Damian's digestive system. Tim said it was only because of the transformation still being in process. Damian had no qualms in accusing Tim of having the most rotten, disgusting blood in existence, because he wasn’t the kind of person who got motion sickness, ever.

He tried to explain that to Tim, at least. If he hadn't been as close to puking as he was, he was certain his insults would have been less unintelligible.

Tim didn't seem too offended, as it was.

"Come on, Damian, stop making those noises. The manor is right there, it'll be just a moment."

Damian looked straight ahead, but for the life of him he couldn't make out the familiar shape of the manor in the black windshield. Not even when a lightning -or what Damian guessed was one- broke through the sky, allowing him to see for a moment Tim's silhouette next to him pointing forward.

"For all I know, you might be about to drive us off a cliff."

"Glad to hear you trust me so much, Damian." Even if it was invisible, Damian could hear the smile in his voice. He shivered. "Are you always this bad at cars?"

"Don't sound so amused. It's your stupid car's fault. I bet they didn't make you ride one of these the first time you turned."

"No, they kind of hadn’t been invented yet. But my neighbors tried to hunt me down, if that helps. There was a lot of moving fast in complete darkness, just like here."

Tim's cheerful voice had an edge to it now. With a sigh, Damian recognized it was better to drop the topic and looked outside again. If he put some imagination to it, he could almost see the silhouettes of the trees passing by-

The car stopped.

"We're here. No sun comes into the cave so you're safe." Tim undid the latch holding Damian's seat belt and opened the door. "I'll go talk to your father first. Don't come out until you feel better. I don't want you opening your skull against a rock because you were dizzy."

With that, Tim moved away into the cave and closed the door.

Well. So much for being able to see the trees.

Damian took a deep breath and relaxed into the plush seat. His body still felt weird, like his stomach was trying to crawl up and away. Hell, he didn't want to think about all the changes his body might be suffering. His heart had stopped, hadn't Tim said that? Would it still function or would it rot inside his chest? The mere thought sent a spike of fear through his chest. Immortality was so not worth it.

Pause. Tim didn't smell like someone whose internal organs were rotting. They might be old enough to be completely dried up, but he didn’t look like he had a mummified heart inside his chest. Or so Damian’s instincts told him.

He was even breathing normally. Could he really pass without it? For some reason, he wasn't all that eager to test it. Better not to think about it much. His upset stomach was probably due to having a lot of blood on it and riding a car without being able to look at the outside. That was enough to upset anybody’s, human or not. The cold air from the cave would surely do him good.

Touching around for the door handle, he pulled it open and, for the first time since ever, the amount of light in the cave blinded him.

The water in the rocks reflected the lamps, the lamps themselves shone like the sun... it was like that one single day he had gotten hungover after Dick's birthday party. Fortunately, it only lasted for a second, and soon the cave was practically back to how it appeared in Damian's childhood memories. Dark and gloomy.

Except that unlike in his memories, it felt as is Damian had just left the day before.

The echoing bat noises were there. The dark shapes of the vehicles were in the same place as Damian remembered. The soft glow from the computers some meters ahead of him...

He was not going to tear up now.

After making sure his balance was back and proper, he crossed the cave in long strides. Soon, the voices from two figures beyond the computers reached him.

"I hope you're happy. They're all going to be here within a couple of days, and I don't think he's going to be-"

"There was nothing else I could do, Tim." It was strange, hearing his father's voice live. "This way might be the best. We don't know what information we can obtain."

"Father," Damian called out, tentatively. He knew he was going to get a lecture. He'd rather get done with it as soon as he could.

As it was to be expected, the conversation stopped in its tracks. Tim seemed to step out deeper into the darkness, while Bruce slowly turned to face Damian.

Suddenly, Damian realized they were at the same eye height. Before that fact could sunk in, he was enveloped by two strong arms and lifted off the ground.

"You're back at last," Damian felt more than heard his father said. "We'd thought we had lost you forever."

And all out of sudden, he felt awful. Not over being caught sneaking out, but for how he had given his father nothing but worries. Even if annoyingly, his family cared about him, and he couldn't do anything but hold onto his father's strong back.

"I'm sorry, father."

Then just like that, he was pushed away, still held by firm hands, and came face to face with his father's temible glare.

"Don't ever do anything like that again! What were you thinking?"

"I-" Damian paled. Behind his father, he saw Tim slither back further into the darkness, ignoring the pleas Damian tried to send him with his eyes.

"You're not to be left alone at any moment from now on. We have some rooms accommodated for Tim's stay, you'll remain in them from now on. Dick will arrive soon, and you'll be under his or Tim's yes at all times."

The last word echoed inside the cave, and it gave Damian enough pause to contemplate that, apparently, there were tears in his father's eyes. It didn't do much to make him feel better.

"Tim," his father called out, softening his grip. "What's going on with his eyes?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Bruce stepped away from Damian and turned to face Tim as the other continued talking. "While I haven't noticed any problems until now, there are some irregularities that I think are important to take into account. I was hoping you could provide some light into them. What with you having all his test results from over the years, and all."

"I don't remember having any tests done," Damian interrupted them. "What are you talking about? My eye color is hardly important. I thought-"

"Damian, there's nothing as important right now as making sure everything goes as it should, since it's too late to reverse your... condition," Bruce reprimanded him. "We should go to get you checked as soon as possible, but since it's still day I shall run some tests myself. Head over the monitors while I talk to Tim."

Damian winced internally at the suddenly harsh treatment.

"Do I get to see Grayson at least?"

"That can wait."

"But he's here, isn't he? I want to see him!" Damian insisted.

"I said no, and that's final, Damian. Don't make me any angrier than I already am, or I shall consider actually locking you up in a room until this is all over."

"NO!" Damian's voice echoed all around the hollow spaces of the cave. "I'm sick of this! And I'm sick of all of you! I'm an adult, stop controlling me! A vampire can take care of himself, you always told me about how dangerous they were! How can it be that now that I am one, everything is a danger for me? I'm going out, and that's final!"

Both Bruce and Tim seemingly froze during his outburst, and before they could react, or chase him, or do anything of the sort, Damian turned on the balls of his feet and rushed upstairs.

The corridor outside looked the same as usual: completely dark and windowless, with all the doors closed and full of somber portraits. However, it was close to Dick's bedroom, and that's the direction Damian took. The door looked the exact same as he remembered, and he kicked it in without a moment of hesitation.

It was a mistake. In front of him, the bright colors of the sunset vibrated in the sky beyond the window. They were barely visible through the curtains, but to Damian's eyes, already used to the darkness, they were blinding.

And just as he could see the light, the light saw him.

The pain was immediate. His eyes got filled up with tears, and when he raised a hand to cover them, it was the skin there that started hurting. It was only a second before darkness enveloped him again, but this time the pain continued, and Damian realized he hadn't passed out. Someone had closed the curtains and hurried to his side.

"Damian! Are you okay? How much does it hurt?" It was Grayson. Damian reached out blindly to latch onto his arm for balance. "Wait right here, I'll go get-"

"Damian!" Bruce's voice came from behind them in the corridor. "What are you doing, running off like that?! Dick, what-"

"He saw the sunset," Dick explained hurriedly, unable to move away because of Damian's grip. "Do you have the meds here?"

"I have them." Damian dropped the arm covering his eyes and reached for his pockets. There were bright green spots covering most of his vision, but the pain was already going away. "I can take care of myself, father, I told you."

"I'm calling the doctor right now. Damian, what were you thinking? I just hope your eyes will work again!"

"Father, I'm fine!" Damian squinted and focused his eyes on the looming figure in front of him. "It's not that bad, I just got blinded for a second. I didn't even black out!"

"You could have sustained permanent damage to your vision!"

His father's image in front of him slowly cleared up. Angry, as it was becoming usual, and two steps behind him, Grayson and Pennyworth with worry clear in their faces. Damian hadn't even been able to say hello to either of them properly.

"I'm fine, didn't you hear? You don't have to get mad just because there was a slim chance I got hurt. You could get run over whenever you go out in Gotham's streets but no one yells you for it!"

"Maybe because I'm not an irresponsible teenager!"

"I'm not one either! I'm a vampire now! I'm no more of a teenager than Drake is, and you never yell at him!" Damian stepped back and glanced around. Now that he noticed, Timothy was nowhere to be seen. Not that he cared, though. "You're both exagerating. Yes, my eyes hurt some, but I'm completely fine otherwise! Look, even my skin looks fine!" he added, putting the back of his hand in front of his father's face. "It's not weird if Drake gets sunburns because he's just so damn pale, but I'm not the same! Your research is full of shit, and I have no reason to listen to you!"

"Damian, you might be sick now, but I'm still your father, and that-"

"I'm not sick, and I don't care! I'm leaving this place!"

They both paused for a moment, catching their breaths. Damian searched his father's face for a minute, trying to read anything off him, but the stony expression was the same as usual.

"Damian, please. Even if you don't want to listen to Bruce, listen to me." Dick approached them, going around Bruce and stepping in the middle. "We've all been so worried, we just want you to be safe. We're so glad you're alive, in fact, even if your father might not be the best at showing it. Stay at least for a day, and then we can discuss where do you want to go." Damian's stance weakened for an instant, and Dick took that chance to put an arm around his shoulders and point at Alfred. "Alfred has missed you, he already prepared your room, and he's been cooking all day."

"I've never liked potatoes," Damian huffed, but his fight had already left him.

"Don't worry, he's good at them, I promise."

Damian sighed. Alfred walked closer, definitely cutting visual contact between Bruce and him.

"Come on, Master Damian. I'll draw you a bath before dinner. I'm sure you want one."

Dick's smile widened and, tightening his hold around Damian for a second, finally released him and moved on to lead Bruce away.

"Aren't vampires allergic to water or something, Pennyworth?" Damian asked, already resigned to run away some other time. After all, going on adventures on his own had never worked well for him.

"Fairytales, Master Damian. I won't accept that as an excuse for you not cleaning the back of your ears properly."

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Damian smiled.


	9. It runs in the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this ages ago but I've been busy with school OTL I might update Pantheon before continuing this one, just to take a small break. I'm happy the plot is already moving along here, though!

It had been five days, and if he had to be honest, Damian couldn’t say his situation had improved in the slightest. He got headaches regularly, whenever the sun went up, and he wasn’t allowed to step out of the oldest wing of the manor. Everything was dark and gloomy. Or maybe that was just his family. Dark, gloomy and concerned described them very well. Or so Grayson insisted.

 

Grayson and Pennyworth were the only people Damian saw most of the time. Their schedule was mostly diurnal, unlike his father’s. However, both him and Tim had been locked up doing something in the cave. Damian had been banned access, as part of his punishment. It was ridiculous. He only saw them during the meals, from time to time.

 

It was an annoyance. And truth be told, he was starting to forget what a proper meal felt like.

 

Alfred was being compassionate. He didn’t fill the house with the delicious smells Damian was used to, back when he lived there as a kid. It made things easier, but not easy enough that Damian could resist the hunger.

 

Of course, as it turned out, Alfred not cooking better meals didn’t mean there wasn’t better food in the house.

 

It was easy to sneak into the pantry.

 

Damian’s body wasn’t completely used to sleeping during the day and working during the night. The headaches he got whenever he was trying to sleep didn’t help.

 

The hunger, however, managed to keep him awake. That, together with his new skills, made easy to sneak around the manor undetected.

 

His new skills, to that point, were improved night vision and some extra strenght, but Damian was certain more would manifest as time went.

 

Or so he hoped.

 

Either way, he had gotten to the pantry safely, and it was exactly as it always had been. There was an unopened jar of his favorite jam sitting there, which made something twist inside his stomach. Someone had obviously getting groceries thinking of his return. It wasn’t fair. Nothing that had happened was fair.

 

To hell with it. He was going to eat that jam. The kitchen was full of spoons. He was going to grab one -maybe not a silver one, one supposedly lethal thing at the time was good enough- and eat it all. No second guessings. No objections. That was it.

 

With a deep breath, he opened the lid and dug in.

 

Five minutes later, he was so full he could explode, despite having barely gone through half the jar. It was just as delicious as he remembered, if not more.

 

Alright, so maybe that hadn’t been his most brilliant idea ever. It was good that no one else was up at 5am, and that the old area of the manor was particularly empty. Damian was sure that the noises his stomach was doing would have been enough to wake anybody if they had been anywhere nearby. Of course, since they had locked all the exits, they thought there was no way for Damian to get into any more trouble than he already had.

 

But of course, Damian was always striding to exceed everyone’s expectations.

 

He was doing a great job at it up to that point, too, if he had to be honest.

 

It was a meager consolation as he felt his stomach disintegrate.

 

Alright, maybe it wasn’t really disintegrating. Damian was uncertain about the transformation process still, but he wasn’t bleeding or anything of the sort. Nothing was working like he was being told. He wasn’t going to complain, though. All the big dangers vampires faced? Indeed, they hurt him, but not like they warned him. Was there something wrong with him? Was Tim right when he said his transformation process was off? Really bad cramps were not as tragic of a consequence as one could have expected. Or as Tim would have expected. Damian still hated them, though -and by extension, Tim.

 

A small part of him wanted the older vampire to be there, holding him close and reassuring him he was going to be fine, even if at the same time he lectured Damian on his idiocy. His brain quickly scrapped the idea, though. Drake was obviously not the nurturing type.

 

He was locked up with his father at that time, too, anyways. And Damian wasn’t going to tell him about this. Ever. He’d had enough of testing his limits for the time being.

 

Half an hour later, his stomach had calmed down enough for him to drag himself back to his room. The manor had never seemed as eerily silent as it did then, nothing but a dull noise pressing against his skull. The dull noise that slowly grew to a full out headache before he could get to his bedroom. Damian decided to consider it another side effect of the food, and kept walking past his bedroom. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep there now, not with how it kept pulsing against his skull. He didn’t want to bury himself in that dark room just yet, anyways.

 

When he was in front of Dick’s bedroom, he paused. Grayson was probably asleep, and he might not appreciate Damian waking him up to tell him how he, once again, did something irresponsible. But if it wasn’t Grayson, who could he tell?

 

"Grayson?" Damian opened the door an inch and peered into the darkness. There was a soft orange glow spreading through the closed blinds, and zero movement besides the slow rise and fall of the bundle under the blankets. Definitely better than Damian’s current room. "Are you asleep?"

 

The bundle stirred and a mop of dark hair peeked out from under the covers to look at him.

 

"Damian? What are you doing here?"

 

"Nothing." Damian pondered about his situation for a moment. "I’m just bored."

 

Dick reached blindly for his phone and checked it. “The sun is rising, Damian, you should be going to sleep.”

 

"I’m not tired." That might or might not be a lie. "My head hurts, anyways. I wouldn’t be able to sleep even if I wanted to."

 

With a deep, dramatic sigh, Dick sat up on the bed and motioned Damian closer. Damian stepped next to the bed and waited.

 

"Look, Damian, if this is about Bruce… You know how much he cares about you, right?"

 

"You mean how overprotective he is?"

 

"Maybe not ‘over’, seeing they way things have turned out. Fine, fine, I’m kidding," Dick added, lifting his hands apologetically. "He’s overprotective and kind of an ass. But that’s because he cares about you. Maybe not the being an ass part, but that’s just how he is."

 

"I have seen him once in years. The only thing he did was yell at me and lock himself up in the cave. You give him too much credit."

 

"He’s trying."

 

"No one ever got credit from trying."

 

"Damian…" Dick sighed again, the same exasperation Damian had often seen on him when dealing with his father. "Look, I promise we’re doing everything we can to figure this out. I promise soon you’re going to be too busy to have any energy to wander the house at night, headache or not."

 

"Why, thank you, Grayson. I feel completely reassured now." Damian gave Dick a vaguely annoyed look. "Uncertain promises about my future will surely make me sleep soundly."

 

Dick seemed to ponder over Damian’s words for a minute.

 

"Do you want to get in the bed with me? You always came over when you had night terrors."

 

"I was ten back then!" Damian immediately snapped back, mortified. "I don’t have night terrors now! What kind of suggestion is that?"

 

"No need to be embarrassed, Dami," replied Dick with an impious grin. "Now go to bed, you need to be well rested for when your mother arrives."

 

Damian blinked. Then he blinked again, trying to process the information.

 

"Mother is coming? Here?" His voice broke a little, and he swallowed around it before continuing. "To Gotham?"

 

"Oops." The corner of Dick’s mouth twitched. "Don’t tell your father it was me who told you."

 

"When is she arriving? She came to see me, right? Why didn’t she tell me? Is she going to be mad at me?"

 

"At your father, most likely. Either way you should get some rest before seeing her. You don’t want to worry her with dark circles, right?"

 

Dick put a reassuring hand on Damian’s shoulder, but Damian wasn’t having any of that.

 

"You must be crazier than I always thought if you believe me able to sleep now. I’m going to pick her up."

 

"You can’t go out in the sunlight, Damian."

 

"I’ll wear sunglasses."

 

"No you won’t. Talia’s going to be even angrier if she hears you went out after getting injured so close ago. Your skin is still red from-" Dick let his hand hover around Damian’s cheek, and paused. "Wait, this isn’t a sunburn, it’s pink, what did you-"

 

The brief reminder of his escapade was enough to make Damian jump away from Dick and take a couple of steps towards the door.

 

"You’re right, Grayson. I better go. Tell me the moment my mother arrives, understood?"

 

He knew he probably hadn’t fooled Dick, but that didn’t matter. The two of them had more important things to think about.

 

The way back to his room felt blurry, the insistent buzzing in his head only growing more and more annoying with each passing second instead of morphing into white noise as Damian had hoped it would. The darkness was the same as usual, but every shape was a tad bit too sharp, too out of place. He found himself eager to go back to his bed, and maybe, actually get some rest.

 

His plans disappeared from his head upon opening the door.

 

"Good morning, Damian. Dick told me you were still awake."

 

Tim was sitting on his bed, perfectly poised.

 

Damian wondered idly if he had passed out on the way there and this was just a particularly realistic dream.

 

"How did you get here before I did? I took the shortest route, and I didn’t see you."

 

Tim smiled and waved his phone in front of Damian’s eyes before throwing it onto a pillow.

 

"I was in the cave until now, it takes less time from there."

 

"Oh. Let me guess. Grayson called you to make sure I went to sleep."

 

"Actually, I called him. I wanted to check on you."

 

"Why?"

 

Tim’s smile seemed to weaken a little at that.

 

"Why? Because I care about you, of course. And I’m worried."

 

Damian hated it. Hated the way that, despite deciding to not care about the vampire in the slightest, three words were enough to make him stop in his tracks and feel the blood return to his cheeks. Thank god vampires didn’t blush.

 

"Well, I’m fine," he snapped. "I was about to go to bed, I didn’t get into any trouble on the way here, didn’t even attempt to sneak into the cave,many my night has been dreadfully boring. Happy?"

 

"Damian, the cameras caught you trying to open the cave entrance three times. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell your father," Tim continued without any prompting from Damian. "That’s not the reason I’m worried, though. Remember what I told you about your eyes?"

 

"Yes, a load of bullshit."

 

"Let me continue. I’ve asked some contacts, and they said your development might be getting delayed for some reason. Bruce isn’t giving me any information, but maybe you could…" Tim let the unfinished question hang in the air for some moments.

 

"What? If anything, I’m the one who is getting less info than anybody else here."

 

"Just let me do some tests. I won’t tell your father."

 

"And what do I gain from it?"

 

"I will tell you the results. And wouldn’t you prefer to test your limits without risking permanent injury?"

 

Damian pondered Tim’s offer for a minute.

 

"So you’re saying that you’re willing to act behind my father’s back, solely out of curiosity?"

 

Tim huffed in a way that had absolutely no right to be as charming as it was.

 

"I’m telling you, I’m worried about you and your development. Even if you don’t like me much, I’m interested in you completing your transformation safely. Your distaste for me is not mutual, Damian, as much as I suspect you believe."

 

"…wait, what distaste-"

 

But before he could finish asking the question, Tim had stood up and started walking out.

 

"Your father is leaving the cave in thirty minutes, tops. If you want to help me, and be helped in return, be at the entrance at 7. Or go to sleep, that’s your choice to make."

 

Silently, he closed the door behind him, leaving Damian in the empty room surrounded by doubts and darkness.

 

At the required time, of course, he was waiting at the entrance. He input the code, waiting for the “door locked” he had received as his sole reply every time he tried beforehand, and…

 

…it opened.

 

It smelled like a trap. So much time had passed ever since he was able to visit the cave on his own whim -one could almost argue that had never been the case- that it was hard to feel at ease now. There were voices drifting upstairs, and Damian decided to follow them. He wasn’t an idiot, though, and he did so only after gluing himself to the wall and carefully closing the entrance behind him.

 

"I don’t think it’s what you think, Tim. He’s not the kind of person you-"

 

Strange. Didn’t Grayson say he was busy? Though of course, Tim admitted to speaking with him. Maybe what he had to do was for Timothy instead of for his father, as strange as it was to think the two of them worked together.

 

"Why should I think otherwise? I’ve been right up to this point, right? He hates working with me. He’s hated me ever since he first saw me."

 

That was Tim’s voice, wasn’t it? Was he talking about his father? That was impossible, right?

 

"I’m sure he’ll show up, Tim, stop worrying."

 

"But what if he doesn’t? What if he keeps doing stupid things and risking himself unnecessarily?"

 

"Well, then we know Talia is going to kill Bruce at some point."

 

"I’d rather not reach that point, Dick, thank you."

 

Damian peeked from between the rocks. Was Tim serious? How could he believe Damian hated him?

 

Then he remembered he had, technically, tried to murder during their first meeting. And when he asked his father to kill him. And when-

 

Alright, so maybe Timothy’s theory wasn’t as crazy as he had thought at first. In a way, it also explained just why had he been so cold and unhappy at having to take care of Damian. Damian wouldn’t have wanted to take care of himself if the papers had been inverted. Tim really did look worried, though. He kept running his hands through his hair and sending Dick exasperated glances. Did he really… care?

 

"Tim, I promise you, Damian might still act like a kid most of the time, but he’s not an idiot. He knows what is good for him. At least, I hope so." There was a pause. "I’ll go with Bruce now, stay here and wait for him, alright?"

 

Damian stopped breathing, already fearing what might happen in case of discovery. He hadn’t been doing anything wrong, of course. Not this time. He arrived when Tim told him to. However, he was too used to the thick atmosphere of secrets that covered the house to not be aware that no one liked getting discovered.

 

The sound of an engine, however, revealed that Dick was taking another way out. Two minutes later and without anybody coming even close to Damian’s hiding place, the cave returned to its usual silence.

 

Damian counted to 500 before walking down the remaining stairs, where Tim received him.

 

"I already thought you wouldn’t come. Sit at the gurney, I have to prepare the equipment."


	10. Vindictive eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's excited abt this chapter?? I am. And about what follows too.

It had been years since he had last seen his mother. Well. That wasn’t entirely true. They still Skyped sometimes, at least when Damian still lived in the manor. They had kind of lost contact after Damian moved to New York. Even if she still cycle on him from time to time   
  
It still had been years since they last had seen each other face to face, and Damian couldn’t help but to be nervous. He was, once again, confined to the old wing of the house, and the nervousness made him unable to sleep. He still could feel the dim headache caused by the sunrise, but he was starting to get used to it. He had nothing to do other than wait.  
  
The library seemed way less imposing now, after the years. Even if in the darkness the tall shelves few menacing shadows over him, they could hardly impress Damian anymore. Not with the knowledge inside of them, that had turned out to be wrong and meaningless, nor with the faint crackling of wood under the weight of the books. Of course father wouldn’t leave the result of his investigations out there in the house for anybody to see. The house was hardly meant to withstand an attack. The books were only there for show.  
  
Damian eyed them with resentment and contempt.  
  
Then the door opened, and the books disappeared completely from his mind.  
  
“Damian!” He was engulfed by a pair of thin, strong arms, and a smell of expensive perfume. It brought him memories. He almost started tearing up, but then he saw the silhouette of his father at the door.  
  
If anything, he could say it was a reaction to the perfume.  
  
“Mother. I have missed you,” he muttered against her shoulder, because anything other than that would have been a lie. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be comforted by his mother’s hand in his hair.  
  
“So have I, my dear, darling son.” Talia pressed a short kiss to the side of his head and glared up at Bruce. “Beloved, I believe we agreed you’d leave me alone with him.”  
  
“Talia, you still have to explain the results of the tests, and-”  
  
“That can wait for later. My son goes first. Go to the kitchen and prepare us some tea, will you.”  
  
It wasn’t a question. Damian was vaguely aware of his father leaving, closing the door behind himself and walking out. Leaving him alone with his mother.  
  
“I can’t believe that irresponsible man allowed this to happen,” Talia continued, as if said man hadn’t been there a second ago.  
  
“It was kind of my fault,” Damian admitted, feeling his guilt return. “I lied to him.”  
  
“Then he should have known better. Let me look at you. Are you feeling unwell?”  
  
Damian huffed slightly as Talia started her usual poking and prodding to make sure he was alright.  
  
“I feel completely fine, mother. Just a headache.”  
  
“Are you following everything your father tells you to do?”  
  


His guilt intensified.  
  
“Not really.”  
  
“Good. Your father is a dumbass.”  
  
“…mother?”  
  
“I’m serious. You’re not like the other vampires your father has studied. I made sure of it.” Talia sighed and pulled him into a hug once again. “I prepared for this eventuality. One can’t trust your father to keep anything so important safe.” Her fractions contracted for a second into a scowl before smoothing out again. “That’s why I gave you our most advanced vaccine before sending you here.”  
  
Damian nodded. Then shook his head, because he hadn’t understood anything his mother had said.  
  
“Vaccine? Against vampirism?”  
  
Talia frowned again.  
  
“Of course. You know that vampirism is just a virus, right?” Damian shook his head once again, deepening Talia’s frown. “I’m going to kill your father.”  
  
Then she launched into a lengthy explanation about infectious illnesses that went completely above Damian’s head.  
  
“Do you mean that you just discovered that the skin sensitivity and craving for blood are just symptoms?”  
  
“Not just, no. We’ve known for decades. You know the league has information of vampires way beyond anything your father might ever hope for, right?”  
  
“So father doesn’t know.” It costed him a great deal of effort to take everything in.  
  
“Oh of course he does. He’s been searching for a cure for ages.” Talia shook her head. “He’s an idiot. Meanwhile, the league has been working on a vaccine.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because vampires don’t want to be cured. At least, not for the most part. Why do you think he has to fight them continuously? I’d rather make sure the people I care about are safe.” There, she paused and ruffed Damian’s hair with a sad expression. “At least, as safe as I can keep them.”  
  
Damian moved away and stood up, trying to gather his composure while everything he had believed in fell apart.  
  
“So vampire hunting is useless and I should have been studying microbiology all along.  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
"I think that’s your father. We have to catch up, as well.” Talia sighed heavily and pressed a short kiss on both of Damian’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, my son, I’ll be back as soon as I finish setting things straight with him.”  
  
“Alright, mother.”  
  
Damian felt surprisingly eager to be alone again. He had a lot to process.  
  
There was a pause.  
  
“In the meanwhile, why don’t you think about coming back with me? I’d rather not have you stay in vampire infested Gotham. You could spend some time with your mother, what do you say? You don’t have to answer right away, of course. I plan on staying for a week or two. You can come back with me when I do return.”  
  
Damian blinked in surprise. “But father-”  
  
“Oh, forget your silly father. You’re an adult now, you should live with whoever you want to. Just think about what you want.”  
  
Talia brushed Damian’s cheek once again and stepped away. The door opened and closed, and then Damian was alone in the room just like before.  
  
Except that now he didn’t know whether the headache was due to the sun or to the news.  
  
He was still completely at loss when Tim found him, an hour later. He had been searching for books on medicine and biology all day, but the only ones he could find in that stupid library dated one or two centuries ago.  
  
“Damian? Are you here?”  
  
The voice came muted from behind the shelves, and Damian peeked through the rows of books carefully before coming out.  
  
“Of course, where else would I be?” He glared at Tim without much heat. “Did you learn anything?”  
  
Tim seemed to shuffle awkwardly for a moment before replying. It was the most human thing Damian had seen him do.  
  
“Actually, I was expecting- hoping,” he corrected,“ that you’d tell me what you learnt. Bruce and Talia are still locked together in the cave.”  
  
“So you don’t know anything?” Damian smiled, feeling for the first time since he had met Tim that he was one step ahead of him. “Well, I learned a lot. Vampirism is an infectious illness-”  
  
Tim rolled his eyes. “I knew that already. I mean about the league’s investigations.”  
  
The previous sensation turned to smoke as fast as it appeared. Of course he knew.  
  
“Fine. Well, she gave me the most advanced vaccine they had developed before sending me here.”  
  
“Well, that’s what I had guessed by myself. Although I didn’t tell Bruce, but- well, he must know by now.”  
  
And then he continued staring at Damian, like he expected him to know anything further. What the hell was wrong with him?  
  
Oh, right. Immortal crazy vampire. Shame on Damian for doubting.  
  
“Stop looking at me like that, she didn’t say anything else! Why won’t you go ask father and stop bothering me?”  
  
Then Tim had the guts to look hurt, of all things. The nerve of him.  
  
“I thought we had agreed to collaborate, Damian. You tell me what you know, I tell you what I know.”  
  
“Then why didn’t you tell me any of these things? Because the vaccine and everything have been news for me!”  
  
He knew his voice was getting louder. He didn’t care.  
  
“I thought you knew those thing already. I’m…” Tim made a pause. “I’m sorry, alright? I know all these things must be very new and confusing for you.”  
  
“Don’t patronize me.” Damian scowled. “The problem here is not that I’m scared and confused, but that you kept information from me!”  
  
“I told you I didn’t know! But fine, if it makes you happy, let’s do this: ask me anything,’  
  
‘What?”  
  
“Do I have to repeat myself? Questions and answers session. Now, while your parents are all otherwise occupied and Dick patrols the city.”  
  
Damian mulled over Tim’s offer a little. It sounded tempting, for sure. He had been dying to receive some straightforward information all this time, but he was still trying to process what his mother had just told him. What was he going to ask now?  
  
“What do you think about me?” The question left his lips before he could process it. Damn it. What did he care?  
  
And yet, he had asked it. To his own -and Tim’s- surprise.  
  
“What do I think?” Tim’s eyes were wide as saucers. “I don’t know what do you mean. About your transformation?”  
  
“Yes, no, whatever. Just answer.” Damian looked away, attempting to hide his embarrassment. “You must have thoughts about me, don’t you?”  
  
In his mind the sound of Tim saying that Damian hated him was still echoing.  
  
“Well, you’re the son of Bruce, whom I respect. You’re also a vampire like me, now, I guess.”  
  
“That’s not what you think, that’s just what I am.”  
  
“Fine.” Tim let out a deep sigh. “You’ve changed a lot recently and I haven’t gotten used enough to it to be able to give you a proper answer, alright? You’re still that tiny vampire hunter in my mind.”  
  
“Take that back!”  
  
Tim’s face was repentantly very close, and it took Damian a moment to realize it had been him the one who took the jump and pressed close against him.  
  
“I won’t. Come on, you’re one even to your father’s eyes.” As calm as Tim’s voice was, it was clear that he was slightly unnerved by the short distance. “Why are you so angry about that? I know you’re an adult now, but there’s nothing to do if I haven’t had the chance of forming an opinion about you just yet.”  
  
“Then, what do I have to do to get you to form one?”  
  
“I… Are you serious? I can’t believe that’s your most urgent question. Wouldn’t you rather know about your mother’s side of the family, or the other vampire groups in Gotham?“  
  
"Why are you so set in avoiding this question?” Damian paused and looked at Tim’s face more intently. “Wait a second. You look flustered.”  
  
“I am not physically able of blushing, Damian. I don’t know what are you saying."     
  
"I didn’t say blushing. Does that mean that if you weren’t a vampire you would be blushing now?”  
  
Tim failed to reply with anything other than a scowl and a step backwards. For the first time, Damian felt that the tables between the two of them were reversed. He was unable to contain the smirk that bloomed on his face.  
  
“I knew it, you’re embarrassed!” He didn’t know what was Tim embarrassed about, but he sure knew that he was embarrassed. And knowledge is power, especially if it was something Tim didn’t want him to know.  
  
“You know nothing, Damian.”  
  
“I thought you were going to solve that, but you’re not answering my questions.”  
  
“I don’t have to answer them, remember?”  
  
Damian felt the anger rise within him.  
  
“You said you would! You can’t go back on your word now!” He pushed Tim away. “Are all vampires lying scum like you, or is that just your personality?”  
  
The movement was too fast for his eyes to catch. One second he was standing in front of Tim, the next he was lying flat on his butt two meters away. The attack had taken him by surprise. His enhanced vision had been able to follow the inhumanly fast movements without problem, but his reaction time had failed him.  
  
However, he wasted no time getting back to his feet and launching himself towards Tim’s throat. It was an unrefined attack, but Damian was now running on instinct alone. The throat felt right, somehow.  
  
He managed to latch onto Tim’s shoulder. Before he could get any closer Tim moved away, making him lose his balance. He didn’t crash on the ground this time. It still wasn’t enough, and Tim used the time it took him to stabilize himself to get behind him. His arms were pinned behind his back by inhumanly strong hands and he was pushed to the ground. He couldn’t move in the slightest.  
  
Just like that, the fight was over.  
  
“If we’re going to work together, you’re going to start treating me with more respect,” Tim hissed in his hear. “Am I making myself clear?”  
  
Damian realized it was the first time he had seen Tim truly angry.  
  
It looked good on him.  
  
“I say, am I making myself clear?” Tim pushed Damian’s back a bit lower.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Damian attempted to push those thoughts away as Tim continued.  
  
“Do you really think you can beat me in a fight? And with that technique? You’re barely a vampire, and I have centuries of experience over you. You’re inferior in both powers and technique. Although you didn’t seem to be using much of a technique a moment ago.”  
  
Damian flushed in embarrassment.  
  
“Can you let me go already?”  
  
“Not until I’ve made my point clear.” The grip tightened.                    
  
For the first time since their initial meeting, Damian realized he was actually scared of Tim. He was so used to seeing him as an ally, although an annoying one, that he had forgotten Tim could snap his neck like a twig. Apparently, this was true even after Damian’s unsatisfying transformation.  
  
“You made it clear. Now let me go.”  
  
“Say please.”  
  
“Please let me go!” His voice was embarrassingly high pitched. He hadn’t even resisted the order, and the moment the words left his mouth the hold disappeared. Damian  
  
“We’ll talk later,” Tim’s voice came from behind him. “I’m sure your mother will want to spend the day with you, but I’ll go find you after dinner.”  
  
There was some shuffling, a pause as if Tim was trying to find something else to say and couldn’t come up with anything, and a minute later he heard the door close behind him.  
  
It was just then than he moved up from his position on the floor, and glanced at the problem on his lap that his position had, fortunately, hidden for Tim. Indeed, he wasn’t much better than a stupid hormonal brat. And he was screwed.


	11. Blood is thicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NO EXCUSE this took so long, gonna work harder now

"So you ate it."

"Yes. And don't berate me for it, Drake. I had a bad enough time as it is." Damian crossed his arms in defiance.

Tim, of course, didn't look too impressed.

The two of them were sitting alone. Talia had gone to sleep, the jetlag too much even for her, and Bruce just texted Tim he was coming back from hunting. Damian hadn't insisted he were included that night, but it still irked him that Tim got the message and he did not.

In any case, they were the only people awake at the manor. Damian didn't know whether to be glad or not. The situation would be much more pleasant if he could just examine Tim's profile in silence and the feelings it caused, even if merely acknowledging their existence triggered an inner turmoil. Regardless, his opinion on the matter was irrelevant, because as soon as he was in Tim's presence the vampire - _older_  vampire, now that Damian had joined their ranks- started accosting him with questions.

"The food is not the problem. Repeatedly ignoring what I'm telling you, is! Do you have no self preservation instinct?"

Damian flinched. He could almost taste the worry in Tim's voice.

"But I'm alright! I mean, it hurt, yes, but from how you speak about it one would think I'd be on my deathbed now."

"Because you should be!" Tim flinched visibly at Damian's reaction. "I'm sorry, that's not how I meant it."

"Right."

"Damian, please. Just because things are working out different than we expected with your transformation does not mean I wish you any harm!"

"I never said you wished so  _because_  of my transformation."

Tim looked completely defeated.

"I  _still_  do not wish you any harm. We all care about you.  _I_  care about you," he added, with a hint of hesitation. Damian's head shot up immediately at that. "You're not a kid anymore, but you need to let me keep you safe. If you want to experiment... and I guess that'd be a reasonable course of action, with the way things are going for you, let me help."

"Care? You're just worried something will go wrong and father will blame you."

Tim threw his arms up.

"I give up! Why is it so hard to believe that I'm concerned about you?"

"Because you think I hate you!"

Tim paused and stared at Damian for a moment, like he was an equation he couldn't solve.

"Well, don't you?"

Damian rubbed his face in frustration. Part of him had been hoping the whole  _hate_  thing was just something he'd told Grayson as an excuse, but apparently, he was wrong. And since Damian had commited the mistake of bringing it up, now he had to pick up the pieces and fix the whole situation somehow.

"...not exactly."

"Oh." Tim looked at him with obvious surprise. "I always thought you did. I mean, you were pretty open about it as a kid. Attempted murder and all."

"Attempted extermination. It's my- it was supposed to be my job, remember?" Damian glared at Tim. "I had no way to know you were even remotely reliable. Father always said vampires couldn't be trusted, what did you expect? But I know better now. I did hate you. Emphasis on  _did."_

"Well, that's... nice of you." Tim looked at Damian. "Oh come on, don't make that face. I'm trying here."

"Why can't you see I've matured? I'm an adult now!" Damian exploded, standing up.

"I know you are!" Tim raised his hands, clearly trying to placate him. "You're not a bad vampire. You're even a  _good_  hunter, much better than I'd expect you to be with how your father treats you. But I need you to trust me.  _Please_ , Damian."

"Then you should trust me too." Damian huffed, puffing out his cheeks before remembering that Grayson had told him he looked adorable when he did that. "I don't have the same... allergies than you do. I can't be bound by the same rules. I'm going to go crazy if I can't eat anything other than your menus."

"I believe you. I'll think of something, but your family won't like it. The only one who trusts me is Bruce, and he's the most headstrong of them all."

"Mother knows I'm not like you."

"Talia wants you safe and sound first of all," Tim replied with a snort. "You're underestimating how much everyone worries about you, Damian."

Damian ducked his head.

"That's not my fault."

"I didn't say it was," Tim sighed. "Tomorrow we're going to have dinner all together, and everyone is going to eat the same, so there's nothing to be done about that. However, I'll think of something."

"I hope 'something' is sneaking out and getting ice cream."

"We'll see about that." 

Tim's smile seemed completely out of place to Damian, but he decided to trust him, at least this time.

"Very well. I'll see you later, then," Damian replied stiffly. "Goodnight, Timothy."

"Goodnight, Damian."

-

Dinner was a tense affair. Dick had decided to patrol the city to ensure Bruce would have no excuses to skip it. Which meant the only person capable of lifting the mood, even if just slightly, was unavailable. Although it might avoid an open confrontation with Talia, whom Dick didn't hold much love for, so Damian guessed it could be worse.

It was just Damian, his parents, and Tim, sitting in front of plates of mushy, pale food. It tasted almost as bad as it looked, but Damian was starting to get used to it. Alfred had clearly made an effort.

The others, however, weren't so acclimated.

"Damian, tell your father he should treat his guests better. I know he lives in a cave, but that is no excuse for serving this mess and calling it dinner."

Damian met Tim's eyes over the table. Tim's expression made clear what he thought of the whole scene. Damian had to look down and feign a sudden interest in his plate to repress a chuckle. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Tim do the same, too.

"Tell your mother I'm a busy man and I have more important things to do that prepare a menu suited to her extravagant tastes." Bruce almost managed to hide his distaste for the food as he spoke. Almost.

"Then tell your father that just because some of us happen to have a taste, that doesn't make it extravagant."

Tim rolled his eyes dramatically in Damian's direction while Talia and Bruce exchanged glares. Damian was forced to cover his mouth and fake a cough to hide his amusement now.

"Damian, tell your mother her taste is just one of many things that need improving."

The dinner went on like that for quite a while, with Damian's parents leading the, to call it something, conversation. Tim, apparently, felt satisfied with Damian's reactions, and continued to make faces in his direction from time to time. It wasn't so bad.

However, in a lull in the discussion, the atmosphere seemed to tense up. Bruce and Talia had gone from exchanging snippy comments to looking at each other in silence. Finally, Talia set down her cup firmly on the table.

"Damian, our current techniques are much more advanced." Talia stared at Bruce directly as she spoke. "Sure, we don't have a cure yet, but your father isn't doing much better. We could at least provide you some treatment. What do you say?" She directed her strong eyes back to Damian's, so alike her own's. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Come back home with me."

Before Damian could reply, Bruce interrupted.

"He's staying here. We agreed, Talia."

"We agreed you'd keep him safe, too!" Talia snapped. "What happened to that? Damian is an adult now, and he can decide by himself who does he want to stay with."

Damian looked between his parents, who were currently glaring daggers at each other. Then he looked at Tim, who seemed to have paled minutely, but otherwise had a perfectly schooled expression.

"I'm sorry, mother, but I'm going to stay here." At Damian's words, Bruce gave Talia a triumphant look. "It has nothing to do with you or father. My transformation might still not be complete, and I've yet to get used to my new abilities and... circumstances. Timothy can train me here, and I know he wouldn't leave Gotham."

At that, Talia sent Tim a questioning look, but it soon disappeared when Tim muttered 'it's true, I wouldn't'. Meanwhile, Bruce directed his interest to Damian.

"I didn't know that might be a factor weighing your decision so much. Didn't you use to hate Tim?"

Damian felt his cheeks redden.

"It's not like I declare him my best friend! He's merely  _necessary_ right now, I'm capable of acknowledging that."

He realized he'd made a mistake immediately when he saw Tim's expression. However, his parents seemed satisfied with his answer -at least, as much as they could- and they returned to eating their bland dishes in silence. They were done soon.

The moment Alfred arrived to begin cleaning the table, Tim stood up and, mumbling an apology, bolted out of the door. Damian rushed behind him, uncaring what the rest might think. He was barely able to catch up with him before Tim reached his room.

"Timothy, you know I didn't mean it like that," Damian began to speak, but was frozen in his tracks by Tim's icy blue glare.

"So much for not hating me, Damian. And to think I had started to believe we could-"

"I don't hate you!" Damian felt ready to grab Tim's face and kiss him, just to prove his point, yet knowing it wasn't an option. Well, it was, but it was a nonsensical, ridiculous option. "You know how father gets, and you've met mother. They wouldn't ever give up if it was a matter of choosing my favorite person in the room. I needed to get them to see reason so I could-" he took a shaky breath. "So I could stay with you."

Tim bit his lip, seemingly deep in thought. Damian thought about biting it. He wasn't even sure the thought came from his bloodthirst.

"Then do. Come with me."

Damian stared.

"Come where?"

"Let's go to my place. You wanted to experiment and train, this place isn't much better than the apartment we were at first. Bruce is too controlling and Alfred and Dick are both too worried for your wellbeing. We won't be getting anywhere like this. You said it before, right? I'm the only one who can train you. You need me."

Damian blushed again at the words. He  _knew_ Tim had noticed that time.

"It's the truth, isn't it?" He huffed. "Fine, I'll go."

Tim smiled.

"Start packing, then. We're leaving tonight. And I won't be going easy on you."

"Can't wait."


	12. Running from me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *appears*  
> *throws cute scenes at you all*  
> *disappears for another 6 months*  
> -  
> ok but hopefully not gonna do such a pause again tho ;3;

  
Tim's house was definitely not what Damian had expected it to be. He knew it to be big and luxurious, but that's where the similarities with his imagined house ended. To put it simply, it was an entirely different aesthetic. 

Damian had always associated vampirism to his father's house. Big, ancient buildings full of darkness and secrets, surrounded by thick forests and echoing all over. His mother's place was also immense and ancient, but the intensity of the light alone gave it a completely different feeling, and when Damian had arrived to Gotham for the first time, the impression had stuck. The small, cramped apartment Grayson had did nothing to change his mind. It was uncomfortable, never designed with two people in mind, much less for as long as Damian stayed. It was homely and it was cozy and, in Damian's mind, decidedly unvampiric.

Therefore, it came as a big of a shock when Damian found out that Tim had a loft in downtown Gotham.

It was much more luminous than any other room Damian had been for any prolonged period of time in weeks. Tim happily explained how the glass and lightbulbs had been specially developed by himself as he went to feed the fish.

"You have an aquarium."

"I do, it brighten the mood a bit. Sometimes the place seems a bit dull, with the blackout blinds and all."

Damian didn't know how to reply, and Tim went on explaining how everything down to the rugs was void of allergens harmful to vampires. All together, it was way more similar to the apartment in New York than to the manor. There were even hints to the same kind of messiness Dick was fond of.

Regardless, it was just a minor surprise after everything he'd found out upon his own transformation, and Tim... He didn't need to help Damian out like this, going as far as to take him into his own place like Dick had.

Tim finished feeding the fish and turned around to look at Damian.

"What are you doing standing there? They're not going to bite you even if you come close, I promise," he teased Damian with a small, tentative smile. It made Damian's chest feel smaller, and he realized he wanted to ensure Tim's smile wouldn't go anywhere, so he swallowed down his criticisms and stepped closer.

The fish were, indeed, bright and beautiful, and Damian looked away before his treacherous mind could begin make any dangerous comparisons with their owner.

"Where am I sleeping? I'd like to leave my bag."

"The guest room is this way." Tim made a gesture in the general, direction of the room before leading the way there. "It hasn't gotten a lot of use, or like, at all. Dick was here a couple of times, but he just used it for sleeping."

"Wait, Dick has been here?"

"Yes, we used to hang out, didn't he tell you? Not as much since he moved out, but we still text." Damian thought he could remember Dick mentioning a Tim once or twice in passing, but he kept assuming he meant someone else. It was partly his own fault, because in his mind he kept referring to Tim as Drake. Amateur mistake, really. "Sometimes he'd need to crash after a particularly difficult chase and this is better situated than the manor." Tim looked at Damian and smiled. "Why are you making that face? Worried about what he might have told me about you?"

Damian felt his face heat up, as baffling as before, and scowled.

"Don't speak such nonsense."

Tim's smile only widened. He then opened the door to another rather bright, neat room, and waited for Damian to look around and settle himself a bit. 

"That door next to the wardrobe is a toilet. The sheets are clean." There was a small pause. "Of course, you can operate the blinds from here, but I'd rather if you didn't."

The look he shoot Damian was significant, and Damian was once again taken aback by the amount of trust it implied to take Damian into his own home in such circumstances.

"I assure you there won't be any problems," he replied, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. "Do I get a tour around?"

The smile returned, although more muted, to Tim's face. Damian couldn't stop noticing it.

"Of course you do, you came here to train, remember? We're not going to be doing that in this side."

"This side?" Damian's voice betrayed his confusion, but he didn't get any response. Instead, he followed Tim as walked around. He pointed out the door to his own bedroom, telling Damian to knock on the door at any time of the day or the night if he ever needed anything. Damian didn't get to find out if he slept in a sarcophagus before they went back downstairs. Tim even showed him how to operate the microwave and the television and gave him the wifi password, yet Damian still didn't see any place they might train. In his opinion, open floor plants lacked mystery.

At least, that was until Tim operated a secret mechanism and lead him underground.

"You put the opening mechanism inside the aquarium?!" Damian yelled immediately, outraged. Tim had the decency of looking a bit sheepish, but walked through the newly opened hole in the wall anyway.

"They're used to it, don't worry, and it hasn't hurt them so far. Plus, no one would think of looking there, would they? Fish aren't anyone's first association with vampirism."

Damian was desperate to find an objection to make to Tim's statement, but it was so preposterous from the first to the last word that he couldn't find of anything. So instead, he stood there, opening and closing his mouth with a frown as if channeling the mood of the aquarium's inhabitants.

"Come on, don't just stand there," Tim insisted, his right hand hovering over a panel with way too many buttons than it seemed necessary to get to the basement. "We came here to train, and you can't get fighting lessons next to the fish, can you?"j

That finally seemed to push Damian into action, and he stepped into the elevator.

The area below reminded him of his father's training and research facilities, except for the fact that they were completely devoid of the ancient and dangerous vibe the manor had going on. In fact, if anyone had told Damian they belonged to an university, he'd have believed them. Even with the couple of ugly posters and the half eaten Doritos bags on some of the tables. Or more like, specially because of them. Pennyworth wouldn't approve.

Tim seemed to read his mind, because he adopted an embarrassed expression and huffed a 'oh, come on'.

"Didn't you say I couldn't eat anything like this?"

"I can eat a couple at a time."

"You could eat something better than Doritos if you're going to do that."

"When did I hire you as a dietician?"

"Don't get so defensive, I thought that was my thing."

Tim responded only with a pointed look as they stopped in front of a metal door. After typing into a keypad next to it, it slid open, revealing a gym not all unlike what Grayson used to train his acrobatics.

"I know you're below the average vampire level, but your skills should still have gotten enhanced to some degree above the average human at the very least. And if I know Dick at all, you've gotten some training already. So maybe we can start with the basics and practice some free running before moving into contactq training."

Damian wanted to complain about it, having no patience for evasive maneuvers, but Tim's face didn't leave place for any argument. So instead he just nodded and took off his shoes, ready to jump on the mats.

He ended up falling on the mats more often than not. Tim's training consisted on chasing Damian into an early death, because one thing was practicing jumps and flips in a gym and another to do so as part of a desperate attempt to get away from a vampire with a hundred years of experience on you. A particularly stressful game of the floor is lava, and Damian had never excelled at escape maneuvers anyway.

"Alright, that's enough!" Damian yelled, holding tight onto a net draped over a column. His grip was stable enough, but he couldn't see anywhere else to jump to, and while his body could easily sustain falling back down again -otherwise Tim would probably not kept up the chase- his pride wouldn't.

"Enough?" Tim had been apparently stunned into temporary stillness by Damian's outburst. "It hasn't even been thirty minutes yet, and you still need a lot of practice. How are you going to run away in an actual battle?"

"I wouldn't run away in a battle!" Damian snapped, fatigue cutting his patience even shorter than usual. He didn't feel any improvement in his skills and reflexes, at least not when trying to escape from Tim. The only difference was the heaviness setting deep in his bones from the days of poor sleeping and poorer nutrition. 

Tim seemed to be able to read some of this in his expression, because he didn't insist further, dropping instead to the floor. Or perhaps he was just as annoyed at Damian's failures as Damian himself was, and wasn't that an enjoyable thought. This wasn't the way Damian had hoped Tim would be looking at him when they left the manor together, the tentative camaderie between them back there having seemingly gone up in smoke. And Damian had no one to blame but himself.

"Let's take a break. You should probably get some blood on you, you're paler than usual." Tim didn't make eye contact with Damian, nor made mention of his previous feeding straight from Tim's neck. Of course, Tim had better supplies at his own place than at the shady apartment Damian had been at at the time. 

Damian watched him go, using the time to try catch his breath. His grip on the net had been so tight, it hurt to release it, and his slow climb back to the floor only made him notice more pains and aches. Nothing seemed broken and no bruises showed on his skin, though, so perhaps Tim was onto something with the improved performance. Damian was now able to take a beating better. Immortality was so not worth it. He couldn't understand why would any vampire be against searching a cure.

Then Tim came back, with two blood bags under his arm and not a hair out of place, no sign of exhaustion whatsoever, and Damian was brusquely reminded that it was him, and him alone, the only vampire unable to do half the things that the others might find as natural as breathing. Or more, even, because Damian wasn't sure about exactly how much they needed to breathe.

"Drink up." Tim's voice was gentle, and it didn't make Damian feel any better. "We can take a short break afterwards, and then do some sparring. You're right, running away is useless when you can't even transform. Battle training will be more useful."

Damian nodded and opened the bag, the heavy smell hitting his nose immediately. Tim's neck still seemed much more appealing, but he'd die rather than suggest anything about it.

"I suppose I don't get any Doritos, do I?" and ah. Tim's face at that did improve Damian's mood.

"That's not- you have a meal plan and Alfred would kill me and..."

Damian didn't even like those snacks, but seeing Tim's face as he looked up at him just to desperately try to look anywhere else but at him afterwards, was worth insisting.

"Come on, I can deal with them better than you. You get to fly, I get to eat more MSG. It's only fair."

Tim huffed, ready to unleash a surely lengthy explanation on what a bad idea that was, when he noticed Damian's teasing smile and the words died on his lips.

"You're awful. I should've thrown you off the walls more."

"You're right, you're getting soft in your old age." Damian laughed as Tim jostled him in the arm slightly.

The sparring went better than Damian feared. He still felt severely outclassed by Tim's experience and reflexes, but the years of training did show. Avoiding the attacks came more easily to him, because he'd learned to expect attacks, and he managed to land a couple of good hits. Or at least, hits he assumed were good, because every time Tim just rolled back into the fight as if nothing had happened. Damian himself got thrown around quite a bit, but either the adrenaline or the mere satisfaction of being able to fight back kept the pain at bay. By the time Tim called it off, Damian was surprised to see it was close to dinner time.

Dinner time consisted, once again, of tragically bland food and dark liquid, but this, not unlike the fight, felt easier than before.

"I'm glad to see you're not completely useless in the field," Tim told him between bites, sitting next to him on the sofa. After cleaning up and changing clothes, Damian was relaxed enough to take it as the teasing it was. He smiled.

"I'll have to tell father you don't trust him as a teacher."

"He knows." Tim looked at him with a small smile that sent Damian's thoughts racing. "But as surprising as it might sound, I do trust you. I know you're skilled and a hard worker. And sincerely, I can't think of anyone who would have been able to adapt to your- transformation as well as you did."

Damian barely managed to swallow the food in his mouth before replying. His mouth had gone completely dry.

"As well? I thought you all considered me a walking disaster!"

Tim shook his head.

"Your family pushes you too much. In this short time, you're already managing better your current status than many people who undergo a full transformation."

That was news to Damian. He mulled over Tim's words and their interactions for the last few days. The only comparisons to other vampires, he now realized, had only been brought up in the context of changes to Damian's biology. Not his skills or behavior. He wasn't sure how could he had missed something like that.

"Thank you," he replied lamely. Tim's eyes, a blue as bright as the first day Damian saw him, were fixed on him. He didn't seem disappointed in Damian's answer, though, and continued with a nod.

"I'm glad we're out of the house. I appreciate Bruce and Alfred immensely. Yet, I can still see they don't make the perfect environment for a healthy adaptation to your changes. Even less with Talia around. Your parents have this tendency to-" Tim made a vague gesture with his free hand, bringing him slightly closer to Damian. "I'm quite certain they've managed to influence every aspect of your life."

"As parents are wont to do," Damian argued. "It's by my own choice that I pursued becoming hunter, and by my own actions that I ended in this state. While I agree they're often overbearing, I have made my own choices. I don't consider them responsible for the paths I've travelled to end up at this point, and- I just-"

His speech, having started with such fervor, crumbled apart when his mouth became unable to give form to his thoughts. They weren't thoughts he voiced often. "I'm glad to have some time away from them. I'm sure you know. But this whole thing is on me. Their expectations aren't."

Tim regarded him in silence for a minute. His expression was one Damian hadn't seen before. Softer, if anything, and Damian couldn't help but to glance at the slight part of Tim's lips, white teeth barely hinted at behind the soft skin.

"You've matured," Tim said at last, bringing Damian out of his stupor.

Fortunately, he made no mention about where Damian's eyes had been. His own were staring decidedly away from Damian's face at the moment. Damian didn't know what to think about it.

It wasn't until Tim reached for the plate on Damian's lap that he realized they finished eating minutes ago.

"Go get some rest, you've earned it." Tim, still not looking at Damian in the eye, stood up. "Careful with the blinds. The sun won't take long to rise, and I'd prefer for us both to be sleeping by then."

Damian rose. He felt suddenly tired, the sunrise's approach obvious. He didn't argue Tim's advice, and made a beeline for his door.

Sleep came much more slowly than he'd hoped for, though. He couldn't blame the headache or the bruises for the way his mind kept replaying Tim's words and bringing to his attention the mere presence of Tim in the apartment.

Damian was in deep, and as always, he had no one to blame but himself.


End file.
